
and the 


OTHE- 


MARGUERITE MURPHY 


























Class JP_X3 
Bo* N\ 



Copiglit'N 0 - 


5 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


i: po 






\ 







PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

The Story of a Summer Camp 




















“But you are, ” insisted Patricia .—Page 214 









PATRICIA AND THE 
OTHER GIRLS 


By 

MARGUERITE MURPHY 

n 


Illustrated by 

ELIZABETH WITHINGTON 



> 

> 

) 


> 


> 


BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 













Copyright, 1926, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


All Rights Reserved 
Patricia and the Other Girls 


Printed in U. S. A. 


Iftorwoofc press 

BERWICK & SMITH CO 
Norwood, Mass. 


SEP 2 3 76 

© CIA95015S 


'Vc j 





CONTENTS 


/ 


I. 

A Letter from Patricia 

- 

- 

9 

II. 

Patricia Arrives 

- 

- 

24 

III. 

The “ Made-Before ” Luncheon 

36 

IV. 

Camp Ojibawa 

- 

mm 

51 

V. 

The First Day in Camp 

- 

- 

69 

VI. 

“ Pride Goeth Before a Fall ” 

- 

85 

VII. 

Camp-Fire Clubs - 

- 

- 

97 

VIII. 

Ghosts - 

- 

- 

110 

IX. 

“ A Mule is a Mule ” - 

- 

- 

119 

X. 

Lost ! 

- 

- 

135 

XI. 

Gulliver Lodge - 

- 

- 

154 

XII. 

A Busy Day - 

- 

- 

171 

XIII. 

“ I Think I Smell Smoke ” 

- 

- 

188 

XIV. 

The Over-Night Canoe Trip 

- 

205 

XV. 

The Treasure Hunt - 

- 

- 

219 

XVI. 

The Gypsies 

- 

- 

235 

XVII. 

Joyce’s Turn 

- 

- 

253 

XVIII. 

“ Far Places ” 

- 

- 

268 

XIX. 

Patricia’s Mistake 

- 

- 

285 

XX. 

Guest Week 

- 

mm 

302 


5 









. 










✓ 


* 







ILLUSTRATIONS 

“But you are,” insisted Patricia 

(Page 214) . . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 


The snub had hurt for a few minutes, 


but Sally was too ridiculous . 

QO 

• 

“You haven’t seen Sally ? ” 

. 144 

Lee glowered at his cousin . 

. 294 


7 


















Patricia and the Other Girls 


CHAPTER I 

A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 

“This is no fun!” Raoul Hunter kicked 
discontentedly at a burning brand that had 
fallen from the glowing picnic fire and landed 
near his foot. 

“No fun? Why, Ray, you are the very one 
who suggested it! ” 

“ Am I? Well, I suggest now that we go 
home.” 

“ But, Ray, we have just come. The others 
will want to stay and sing, to say nothing of 
eating.” 

“ Sing? That bunch? They couldn’t carry 
a tune in a basket.” 

“ Ray, what is wrong with you? ” Joyce was 
a trifle impatient. “ Are you trying to spoil 
the picnic entirely?” 

“ It’s spoiled for me, anyway.” 

9 


10 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Joyce looked at her brother in surprise. 
Ray, the smiling, the sunny-hearted, was 
cranky! 

School had just finished. This was the first 
Saturday in the long summer vacation before 
the senior year. All out-of-doors beckoned 
Joyce—the fresh new leaves, not dusty, as they 
would be later in the summer, green, fresh 
grass, and above all, the abundance of early 
summer flowers, a few late violets, here and 
there a trillium, masses of tiny pink-faced June 
flowers—everywhere summer. When Ray had 
suggested this picnic at Flat Rock, Joyce had 
been delighted. And now the picnic was an 
accomplished fact—and Raoul was cranky, 
actually cranky. Joyce wished, then, that 
John Rogers had come along. 

But John had gone elsewhere, and it was 
too late to do anything about that. Joyce 
turned and walked slowly to where the others 
stood. These others, her classmates, Caro¬ 
line Boyd, Leile Grey, Jimmy Foster, Tom 
McFarland, stood on the other side of the 
camp-fire. 

“ Is it time to fry the steaks? ” asked Joyce. 



A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 


II 


“ Almost.” Caroline Boyd, tall and grace¬ 
ful, bent over the coffee-pot. “ The coffee will 
soon boil now.” 

“ I’ll do one. Who’ll do the others? ” 

Joyce looked around for the salt. Her usual 
vivacity was lacking. It always hurt her to 
have any one in the family cross or down¬ 
hearted. And to have Raoul, the sunniest of 
them all—Raoul, who was always cheerful, 
always smiling, in such a mood as this, not only 
hurt Joyce; it also puzzled her. 

“ I’ll take one,” said Tom. “ What’s wrong 
with Ray? I thought this was his job.” 

“ It generally is.” Joyce was sober. “ I 
don’t know what ails him to-night.” 

“ I know.” Jimmy Foster grinned. 

“ You do? ” Joyce looked at him in surprise. 

“ I think I do, anyway.” 

“ What is it? ” 

Jimmy grinned again, but refused to com¬ 
mit himself. 

“ I think you’re all too mean.” Joyce 
flipped her steak over. “ And I’m hungry, 
and if that coffee doesn’t boil soon, I’ll— 
I’ll-” 



12 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


But whatever it was that she was going to 
do, Joyce was mercifully spared, for at that 
exact second the coffee sizzled over, making the 
fire beneath it spatter and sputter. Joyce 
made an attempt to rescue the coffee, burned 
her hand, almost dropped her steak, and in 
the general uproar that followed forgot her 
troubles and was soon laughing merrily. 

The food was abundant, simple, and whole¬ 
some. All ate and ate until they could eat 
no more, laughing and talking merrily the 
while—all but Raoul. 

He wandered down to the bank of the swift- 
moving little river that flowed below Flat 
Rock. Its banks were green with summer; 
frogs were croaking near by. Suddenly Ray 
listened intently. He heard a sound that was 
not made by frogs. 

Meanwhile fast and furious banter went 
around among the rest who were gathered near 
the camp-fire. 

“ Leile Grey, if the juniors could see you 
now-” 

Leile was scraping the final bit off the steak 
bone. 




A LETTER FROM PATRICIA IB 

“Juniors!” she stopped long enough to 
say. “You mean ‘ Will-be seniors.’ ” 

Would-be seniors! ’ ” Tom, a University 
student, was quick to grasp this chance. 

“ Tom, you’re horrid.” Caroline Boyd at¬ 
tempted to sulk. 

“No, but I ask you candidly, would any 
class—even ‘ Would-be seniors ’—want such 
undignity in a class president? ” 

“ Undignity! ” hooted Joyce. “ Is that the 
way you talk at the University? I’ll never go 
there, if it is.” 

“ Wait until you meet some of my handsome 
fraternity brothers,” said Tom. “ You’ll want 
to skip half your senior year, you’ll be in such 
a hurry to get to the University.” 

“I’d never miss a day of my senior year, if 
the whole fraternity begged me to on bended 
knees—even if they were all as handsome as 
you, Tom.” 

Tom was homely, but attractively homely. 
His nose was large, his mouth good-humored, 
his eyes twinkled; he was wholesome, likable. 
One was drawn to look at his face again and 
again. Far from being sensitive about his 



14 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


looks, Tom was forever making jokes about 
himself. 

“ Just for that, Joyce Hunter, I’m going to 
duck you in the river.” 

“ You’ll have to catch me first! ” 

Quick as a flash, Joyce sprang to her feet 
and with a duck and a scramble was opposite 
Tom, the camp-fire between them. 

Chuckling, Tom took the challenge, but in¬ 
stead of running around the camp-fire as Joyce 
had planned he must, he made a sudden leap 
across it; for Tom was extremely athletic. 
Joyce gasped and fled, shrieking and laugh¬ 
ing. The others cheered, first for Tom, then 
for Joyce. The chase was furious but short. 
Tom brought Joyce back to the firelight, her 
hands pinioned behind her. 

“ Now,” he said, “ will you be good? ” 

“ Of course,” gasped Joyce. “ I’m always 
good.” 

“Then say I’m not homely; say that I’m 
positively handsome.” 

“ But,” Joyce still gasped for breath, “ you 
are homely, Tom.” 

“ Into the river with you! ” 


A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 15 

Joyce braced herself, but she was helpless 
against Tom’s superior strength. 

“ Help!” she called. “Help! Ray! Where 
has Ray gone? ” 

Joyce sobered instantly, and all the fooling 
stopped. 

The others looked around, forgetting, too, 
the hilarity of the moment before. 

“ He was here just a minute ago.” 

“ No,” said Leile Grey quietly, “ he went off 
directly after supper.” 

“ Which way? ” A worried frown appeared 
on Joyce’s brow. 

“ Towards the river, I think.” 

Every one was silent on the instant, listen¬ 
ing. Relow them, the rapidly moving little 
river tinkled and gurgled and splashed. As 
soon as the human voices stopped, the early 
song of frogs was audible. 

“ Ray! Oh, Ray! ” called Joyce. 

There was no answer. 

Joyce stamped her foot. 

“ Where can he have gone? ” 

Again she called. Still no answer. 

“ Well, it seems ridiculous, but I suppose 


16 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


we must go find him. I can’t imagine what 
has come over him all of a sudden.” 

They started in different directions. Ray, 
crouching low beside a stone, heard them pass 
him. He was glad they all went up-stream, 
for the shadows he had been watching had gone 
down-stream; he meant to find out what those 
shadows meant, and to find it out alone. His 
crankiness of the earlier evening had been 
transmitted to a mood of desperation. Here 
was action, excitement, glory perhaps, and 
Raoul meant to have all three at once, and to 
share them with no one. 

As soon as the voices died away, he crept 
out from his hiding-place behind the rock, and 
proceeded warily down-stream. There had been 
wild tales afloat lately of bandits on the road 
between Westcott and Minneapolis. Three 
young fellows—always three, no more, no less 
—had staged several hold-ups the preceding 
winter. For a time they had ceased, but now 
that early summer was bringing tourists, these 
three had started operations again. Un¬ 
doubtedly they had a cache somewhere near 
Minneapolis, and what more likely spot than 


A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 


17 


this little river, so secluded and yet so near? 
Raoul’s heart beat quickly. 

When he had left the camp-fire and warn 
dered down to the river, he had been indif¬ 
ferent to his surroundings. Quite suddenly a 
twig had snapped a few yards away. Raoul 
had stopped, a thought of wild animals flash¬ 
ing through his mind. Then with a little 
laugh at his own foolishness he had gone on. 
A stray dog, perhaps, or a cow out of pasture 
—or at most, a late squirrel or chipmunk. 
But then he had heard another and louder 
snap, a gasp, a whisper, hurrying feet, silence! 
This time Ray paused in earnest. 

At first he thought of summoning the 
others; then had come this idea of attaining 
glory single-handed. But just at this junc¬ 
ture the others had missed him and had come to 
look for him. Valuable time had been wasted 
while Raoul waited for them to disappear. 
Now again he was alone and could go on. 
Slowly, stealthily, step by step, lest he betray 
his presence too soon, he crept down along the 
river bank in the early spring dusk. 

His plan was simple—to crawl up on those 


18 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


two, jump on one, pinion him, use him as a 
guard against his companion; then he would 
shout for help. When the others came run¬ 
ning, he would have the glory; and just now, 
glory seemed highly desirable to Ray. The 
plan was simple enough, but scarcely feasible; 
and Ray with his usual clear-sightedness should 
have seen its weak points; would have seen 
them quite possibly but for the fact that he 
felt abused and cross; and he did not stop to 
reason. Excitement and action were what his 
present mood needed and demanded, and that 
was all he asked. Certainly the opportunity 
was at hand. 

Slowly, slowly, inch by inch, step by step— 
and nothing happened. The evening was as 
empty as though Ray were the only soul in the 
world. Discouraged, Ray at last thought of 
turning back when, in the brush a few yards 
up the bank, he heard again a whisper—and a 
low “ Ssh.” No mistake this time. He circled 
up behind the noise, paused and listened. 
There was a stir, a slight movement in the 
underbrush. Ray waited no longer. He 
leaped. There was a shriek, a howl for help, 


A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 19 

a wild scramble, a gasp, bodies tumbling 
about—and the sound of weeping. 

“ What in the world are you two doing 
here? ” 

Disgusted, disgruntled, dirty, rumpled, and 
yet withal feeling a wild desire to laugh, Ray 
stood up, a small disheveled boy under each 
hand. 

“We thought-” 

“ It was like this-” 

_ # 

Bobbie and Timmie, Raoul’s two younger 
brothers, began to explain in unison. 

“ What mischief have you been up to now? ” 
He shook them roughly. 

“ ’Tain’t mischief,” defended Timmie. 

Bobbie, after one look at his older brother, 
began to weep. Immediately Ray relented. 
Sitting down on a near-by stone, he proceeded 
to quiet Bobbie. 

“ Go on. Tell me about it, Timmie.” All 
the perverse mood of earlier evening gone, Ray 
now smiled quietly his own cheerful usual 
smile. 

Timmie gulped, not far from tears himself, 
even though he was almost a man now. 





20 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


<< 


Well, when you and Joyce left this after¬ 
noon, we ran after you. Didn’t you hear us? ” 
“ I did,” said Ray, “ and Joy told you to 
go back. Didn’t you hear her? ” 

“ Yes,” said Timmie, “ we tried to tell you, 
and you wouldn’t listen. Then we went back 
to tell Mother, and she was too busy to listen. 
We didn’t know what to do—and we knew it 

was important, so-” 

“We came out here,” joined in Bobbie, who 
had now ceased weeping, “ and we had to tie 
Bingo so he wouldn’t bark and give it all 
away-” 

“ And,” interrupted Timmie, “ when we got 
near the camp-fire, we saw how cross you 

looked and we were afraid you’d scold-” 

“ And we were so hungry.” Bobbie was al¬ 
most ready to weep again. 

So we went down by the river-” 

And you came along-” 

“ And you looked so cross we were scared. 

So we hid. And then you came after us-” 

“ And we were more scared than ever — 


a 


a 


a 


a 


And then you jumped on us that way 
And it was dark,” finished Bobbie. 


>> 


*> 










A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 


21 


Ray looked sheepish. 

“Don’t know just whom the joke is on; 
me, I guess. But I haven’t the slightest idea 
yet what it’s all about. Why did you come? 
You know better.” 

“ The letter,” said Bobbie. 

“ Special Delivery.” Timmie was important. 
“ The messenger boy saw me, and gave it to 
me.” 

“ Where is it? ” asked Raoul. 

Timmie began to hunt through his pockets 
frantically. He looked up. 

“ I—I guess I’ve lost it.” 

“ Here it is.” Bobbie held it up, tightly 
clenched in his fist. 

Ray snatched it and held it up, but the light 
was too faint to make reading possible. 

“ It’s from California,” said Timmie 
proudly. 

“ From Patricia,” added Bobbie. 

“ How do you know? ” Ray was visibly ex¬ 
cited. 

“ We think so,” chorused both boys. 

“ For me? ” asked Raoul. 

“ No. For Joyce.” 


22 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Come on.” Ray jumped quickly to his 
feet. “ We’ll go find her.” 

“ I’m hungry,” wailed Bobbie. 

“ Me, too,” said Timmie. 

The trio found a rather disconsolate lot of 
picnickers around the dying camp-fire. Joyce 
was the first to see them. 

“Why, Ray—and Bobbie—and Timmie! 
What’s wrong? ” 

“ Read this.” Ray held out the crumpled 
letter. 

“ It’s from Patricia Strickland.” Joyce’s 
face flushed happily. “ It’s the first she’s writ¬ 
ten since she left here last month to go to 
California. I thought she’d forgotten us.” 

“ Now it comes out,” teased Jimmy Foster. 
“ Look at Ray’s face! ” 

Ray ignored him. 

“ Here, some one. Give these youngsters 
some food.” 

While Bobbie and Timmie feasted on the 
remains of the picnic lunch, Joyce read part of 
her letter aloud. 

“ She’s been sick,” she announced; “ caught 
a bad cold on the train and was in bed for two 


A LETTER FROM PATRICIA 


23 


weeks. That’s why she didn’t write. And, 
listen, every one—listen: 

“ ‘ I was so disappointed over my Califor¬ 
nia trip that Dad says I may do anything I 
please this summer. And guess what I’ve 
decided! No, I am not going home to New 
York. It is always stupid there in the sum¬ 
mer; nor Europe—that’s to be my gradua¬ 
tion present, so Dad says now; but—Camp! 
Won’t it be a lark? There is a wonderful 
camp in northern Wisconsin, right on Lake 
Winnebago. And Joyce, you’re to come with 
me. Please, please say you will. It’s the 
duckiest place. Several of the girls I know 
have friends who go there. They have swim¬ 
ming, horseback riding, tennis—loads of things 
to do. Dad and Mother will be at the hotel 
on the same lake part of the time. Joyce, you 
must come. Say you will. 

“ 4 Must stop now. See you soon. 

“ 4 Love, 

44 4 Patricia. 

44 4 P. S. I arrive in Westcott June fifth.’ 

44 June fifth?” Joyce stopped reading the 
letter and looked up as she repeated the date. 
44 Why, that’s to-morrow! ” 





CHAPTER II 


PATRICIA ARRIVES 

Although Patricia was not due in West- 
cott until late in the afternoon, Joyce arose 
unusually early. She was not ahead of Pat¬ 
ricia’s Grandmother Parsons, even so. 

“ Didn’t expect her back so soon, did we, 
Joy?” Grandma smiled at Joyce across the 
flower-beds. 

“ You seem mighty pleased,” said Joyce, 
smiling back. 

“Yes, I suppose I’ve contracted the pre¬ 
vailing disease.” 

Joyce looked puzzled. 

“ What do you mean, Grandma Parsons? ” 

“ Oh, crawling around on my knees before 
Patricia. I don’t know what there is about 
that child that affects people so.” 

“ She is a dear, isn’t she? ” Joyce smiled 
reminiscently. “ Though she was pretty 
snippy sometimes when she first came from 
New York.” 


24 


PATRICIA ARRIVES 


25 


“ I’m glad she’s not going back there this 
summer. You knew she was planning on a 
Wisconsin camp, didn’t you? ” 

“ Yes, Grandma. She asked me to go with 
her.” 

“ Splendid.” Grandma was really enthu¬ 
siastic. 

“ But I’m not sure that I can go.” Joyce 
looked a little downcast. 

“ Why not, pray? ” Grandma’s voice was 
sharp, but Joyce, who understood her so well, 
looked up with a little smile. 

“ Expense—for one thing.” 

“ What does your father say? ” 

Joyce shook her head. “ I haven’t men¬ 
tioned it to him. I don’t know that I ought 
to.” 

“ Why not? ” 

“ You see, there’s Irma.” Joyce looked a 
little wistful. 

“ Irma? Your sister? What has she to do 
with it ? ” 

“ She has her plans all made for two weeks 
at the lake with Miss Laurence. That’s ex¬ 
pensive, you know.” 



26 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Grandma Parsons almost snorted. “ Why 
doesn’t Irma go to work? ” 

“ She did try for a school last year, you 
know,” reminded Joyce, gently, “ and all she 
could get was one out in the country.” 

“ And she wouldn’t take that!” snapped 
Grandma Parsons. “ Well, you’re going with 
Patricia, Irma or no Irma.” 

“ I hope so,” said Joyce wistfully. 

“ Patricia needs you. Can’t tell what sort 
of girls will be at this camp. And you’re a 
balance-wheel for Patricia, Joyce.” 

“ And to carry the comparison a little far¬ 
ther, you’re the steering-gear for us both. 
Well, I’d like to go; you know that.” 

“ You’re going.” Grandma Parsons was 
most decisive. 

It seemed to Joyce that the time for Pat¬ 
ricia’s arrival would never come. She wan¬ 
dered about restlessly, unable to settle down 
to anything. She weeded for a bit in Timmie’s 
attempt at a garden; she dusted her room; she 
tried to read; and finally she went to her 
father’s stable, re-built and now almost new 
since the fire in the early spring. There she 


I 


PATRICIA ARRIVES 27 

asked Hal to saddle her horse “ Skip,” and 
started for a ride. The country was so lovely 
in its soft coloring of early summer, the air so 
balmy, the sky so blue, that Joyce rode much 
farther than she had intended. 

So it was that, after all, she missed Patricia’s 
arrival. 

And Patricia, disappointed at not seeing 
Joyce, hardly greeted her grandmother and 
grandfather before she ran across the lawn to 
the Hunter home. 

“ Oh, Joyce! ” she called. 

“ Joyce isn’t here just now. Is that you, 
Caroline? ” 

Mrs. Hunter was patching a bad tear in 
Bobbie’s coat and did not leave her mending 
long enough to look up. 

“ No. It’s Patricia.” 

“ Oh! ” Mrs. Hunter got to her feet then, 
spool, thimble, scissors, and coat falling in a 
shower about her. 

“ Joyce has been looking for you all day. 
She’ll be terribly disappointed to have missed 
you. Wonder where she has gone? ” 

“ Never mind. I want to talk to you, any- 


28 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

way. Wondered when I’d find the oppor¬ 
tunity.” 

“Talk to me? Gracious! Why?” 

Patricia smiled as she stooped to pick up 
the things Mrs. Hunter had dropped. 

“ Sit down, and I’ll tell you.” 

Mrs. Hunter looked at the girl before her. 
She always felt a little uneasy in Patricia’s 
presence, although she admitted to herself that 
this was not Patricia’s fault. 

“ Is it anything serious? ” Vague forebod¬ 
ings flashed through Mrs. Hunter’s mind. 

“ Yes and no.” Patricia smiled. “ Yes if 
you say no—no if you say yes.” 

Mrs. Hunter looked so puzzled that Patricia 
broke into a rippling laugh. 

“ That does sound like a conundrum, doesn’t 
it? But it’s simply this—I am going to a girls’ 
camp in Wisconsin for the summer. I leave 
the first part of next week.” 

“ Yes,” interrupted Mrs. Hunter, “ so Joyce 
said.” 

“ Did she also say that I want her to come 
with me? ” 

Mrs. Hunter shook her head. 



PATRICIA ARRIVES 


29 


“No, she didn’t mention that. I suppose 
she knew it would be impossible—that we 
couldn’t afford it.” 

Patricia flushed slightly. 

“ And that’s just what I wanted to talk to 
you about. I want Joyce to come as my 
guest.” 

“ Oh, no,” protested Mrs. Hunter. “ Her 
father wouldn’t like that.” 

“ Please, Mrs. Hunter,” begged Patricia. 
“ If I were to ask Joyce to New York as a 
house guest, you’d let her come, wouldn’t 
you? ” 

Mrs. Hunter hesitated. “ Yes, I suppose 
so. Yes.” 

“ Well, as far as I’m concerned, this is no 
different—only it will be a lot more fun. And 
I do so want her, and I know Joyce wants to 
come.” 

“ Yes, I know Joyce would enjoy going, and 
I suppose we have no right, her father and I, 
to deny her that happiness.” 

“ Oh, please, Mrs. Hunter—I’d be so happy! 
In fact, I don’t believe Grandma Parsons 
would let me go without Joyce.” 


30 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Grandma Parsons! ” Mrs. Hunter looked 
surprised. “ She wouldn’t have anything to 
say about it, now that your mother and father 
are here from China.” 

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t—really, but 
I’d hate to have her object. I know she thor¬ 
oughly approves of Joyce’s coming with me. 
Please do let her.” 

“Well,” Mrs. Hunter paused, “I’ll see 
what her father says.” 

“What Father says about what?” Joyce 
dashed into the room, letting the screen door 
bang behind her. “ O-oh! Patricia! I am 
glad to see you.” She flung her arms around 
the other girl. “ Did you have a wonderful 
trip? I thought you’d never get here.” 

“ Yes, and now that I am here, I’ll be leav¬ 
ing again in three or four days, but you are 
coming with me, Joyce.” 

“ Oh, Mother, may I really? ” 

Joyce was dancing about in her delight. 

“ I’m not sure, Joyce. I said I’d see what 
your father said. Promptly you are off build¬ 
ing air-castles again.” 


“ But, Mother, think—swimming and hiking 



PATRICIA ARRIVES 


31 


and riding—and tennis. Do they have tennis, 
Patricia? I’m not a very good player, but I’d 
like to learn. Ray always beats me—terribly.” 

“ I guess they do—they advertise it. This 
is an exceptionally good camp. They are sup¬ 
posed to have everything.” 

“ If I only can go.” Joyce subsided into a 
chair. 

“ Go? Where? Can I go with you? ” 

Bobbie dashed into the room, also banging 
the screen door. He stopped short at the sight 
of Patricia, and a cherubic smile spread over 
his features. 

“ Oh, hello! You’re back, aren’t you? You 
look just the same.” 

Patricia laughed merrily. “ No, Bobbie, I 
haven’t changed a great deal in the month or 
so I’ve been away. I do hope you’ll know 
Joyce when she comes home.” 

“Comes home!” Bobbie was astonished. 
“ But she isn’t away.” 

“ No, but she’s going to be away—she’s go¬ 
ing to camp with me.” 

Mrs. Hunter threw up her hands with a 
helpless gesture. 




32 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Girls! Girls! I only said ‘ maybe/ ” 

“Well, Irmas going away, and if Irma 
goes, I don’t see why Joyce can’t.” 

Timmie suddenly appeared from the kitchen, 
Bingo at his heels. 

“ Timmie, can’t you say ‘ How-do-you-do ’ 
to Miss Strickland? ” 

“ To whom? Oh, Patricia. Hello! Awful 
glad you’re back.” 

He held out his hand shyly. 

Patricia stooped suddenly and kissed him. 
“ Timmie, you dear youngster. I don’t be¬ 
lieve you know I’ve been away.” 

“ Oh, yes, I do. Ray and Joyce went 
around here for weeks after you left with the 
longest faces. Didn’t they, Bingo? ” 

Bingo waved his tail and stretched his front 
legs eagerly in the hope of a romp. But he 
did not bark. He had learned that barking in 
the house was not polite. 

“I’m glad to see you all again, anyway,” 
said Patricia, “ and now, I must hurry-” 

“ All? ” interrupted Bobbie. “ You haven’t 
seen Irma—or Ray.” 

“ I will later. I must run now, or Grandma 



PATRICIA ARRIVES 


33 


and Grandpa Parsons will think I don’t love 
them. Come over later, Joyce.” 

Patricia went out, carefully shutting the 
screen door. 

“ Isn’t that just like her? ” Joyce gazed 
ruefully after Patricia. “ A little thoughtful 
~ act like that always makes me feel as though I 
were the roughest person in the country. I 
could learn a lot from Patricia.” 

Mr. Hunter agreed to Patricia’s plan, and 
the next few days were indeed busy ones for 
Joyce and her mother, even for Patricia and 
Grandma Parsons; for, although camping 
regulations called for uniforms and plenty of 
blankets, Joyce was allowed to buy two dainty 
summer dresses. 

“ You see,” explained Patricia, “ this camp 
is on a very well-known lake. About two miles 
around the lake is a very popular summer 
colony with a splendid hotel, Gulliver’s Lodge. 
Several of Father’s friends have been there on 
fishing trips. Dad says probably he and 
Mother will come up during the summer for 
a week or two. If they do, Joyce and I will 
get leave from camp and go over. I’m not 


34 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


sure the authorities will let us go for more than 
a day at a time, but even so, we can scarcely 
wear khaki uniforms there.” 

Then there were the uniforms to buy— 
knickers and middies, bright red ties—every 
girl must have at least three of these suits; a 
bathing costume—the simpler the better— 
tooth-brush, soap, plenty of blankets, rubbers, 
a rain-coat, a bag to pack everything in. 

“ My goodness,” teased Ray. “ I could go 
to Europe and back on less.” 

“ I’d like to see you try,” retorted Joyce. 

“ Maybe I will, some day. But what I want 
to know is: Are we going to have a picnic be¬ 
fore you and Patricia leave? ” 

“ I’ll be glad to go on one, but I certainly 
haven’t time enough to plan one. Grandma 
Parsons is giving a luncheon for Patricia 
day after to-morrow, and we leave the day 
after that. What with getting things ready, 
and packing-” 

“ I know.” Ray got up suddenly. “ I have 
an inspiration. Maybe it will work, and may¬ 
be it won’t, but at least I am going to try. It 
will be fun if it does work.” 






PATRICIA ARRIVES 85 

“ What is it, Ray? ” Joyce was desperately 
curious. 

Raoul shook his head. 

“ No.” 

i * 

“ Please, Ray. I must know.” 

“ Can’t do it. Wait and see. If it’s a 
failure, you won’t be disappointed. If I suc¬ 
ceed—well, you know you like surprises.” 

“ Give me just a hint,” begged Joyce, 

But Raoul was adamant. 


CHAPTER III 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 

“ Mother,” said Patricia, “ Grandma Par¬ 
sons has asked in some of the girls I liked best 
in High School. They are coming to lunch. 
I’m glad because I want you to meet them.” 

“ I’ll try to get back before they leave, dear.” 
“ Get back? Before they leave? Where are 
you going? ” 

“ I’m going to Minneapolis. Your father 
wants to go. I’ll have lunch with him, and 
then huny home. They’ll stay all afternoon, 
won’t they? ” 

“ Oh, yes. They are bringing some sewing. 
They started a club of some sort to clothe a 
poor family here in town. But I don’t under¬ 
stand. Why can’t you and Father go to the 
city some other day? Is it so important? ” 
Mrs. Strickland smiled mysteriously. 
“ Quite important. I can’t explain all about 

it now. Something your father wants—and— 

36 


i 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 37 

well, if I talk any more, I’ll give it all away. 
But I’m sure we’ll be back in time. I will, at 
least.” 

Patricia was puzzled, but said no more. 

She started for the kitchen, but Grandma 
Parsons would not let her help there, either. 

“ This is a party for you, Patricia, and I 
don’t even want you to know what you are go¬ 
ing to eat.” 

“ At least I can set the table.” 

Grandma chuckled. 

“ No, you can’t even do that. In fact, there 
isn’t going to be any ‘ setting ’ to it.” 

“ But-” protested Patricia. 

“ Never mind, now. Run along.” 

“ I never saw such a mysterious family in 
my life,” said Patricia with a touch of temper. 
“ I’m going over to Joyce’s.” 

But Joyce was at the dressmaker’s. Even 
Bobbie, Timmie, and Bingo were off some¬ 
where. Disconsolately, Patricia wandered out 
through the back door of the Hunter home. 
She almost literally ran into Ray who was 
rushing pell-mell into the house. 

“ Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized. 



38 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Patricia looked at him and burst into laugh¬ 
ter. 

“ What are you doing? Making up for a 
minstrel show? ” 

“ Am I as bad as that? ” Ray grinned. 

“ I wish you could see yourself.” Patricia 
laughed again. “ That smudge on your nose 
is particularly attractive. What is it? Char¬ 
coal? Paint? ” 

Ray shook his head. “ Grease.” 

“ Grease! What in the world are you doing 
with so much of it? ” 

“ Can’t tell you now.” 

Patricia looked startled. 

“ There it is, again. More mystery. I think 
I’m being haunted.” 

Raoul grinned broadly, but offered no fur¬ 
ther explanation. 

“ Well,” Patricia turned on her heel, “ since 
I seem to be so superfluous everywhere, I guess 
I’ll go home and dress for the luncheon, though 
it’s much too early.” 

Raoul looked after her ruefully. “ Oh, I 
say, Patricia, don’t be cross. It’s all for you, 
you know.” 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 39 


But if Patricia heard, she gave no sign. For 
a minute, Raoul debated whether to go after 
her and explain or not. Finally, however, he 
smiled to himself and went into the house to 
try and scrub off some of the grease. 

Patricia was ready long before even the 
earliest of her guests arrived. Every one was 
unfeignedly glad to see Patricia again. 

“Tell us about the camp you and Joyce 
are going to,” begged Caroline Boyd. “ Lucky 
things. Wish I were going along.” 

“ I wish so, too, Caroline,” said Patricia. 
“ It’s a camp for girls up on Lake Winnebago. 
I’ve forgotten the name of the nearest rail¬ 
road station; it’s something like Goalong. At 
least, it sounds that way. Girls from all over 
the country come to this camp. You have to 
know some of the authorities personally, or 
you can’t get in. There’s swimming, riding— 
all sorts of things.” 

“ Do you live by schedule? ” 

“ Oh, I suppose so. All camps are run that 
way. Bugles instead of bells, though, thank 
goodness.” 

“Will you have your own horse? ” 


40 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ I’m afraid not. Wish I might.” 

‘‘Will you live in a tent, Patricia? ” 

“ Yes. They have tents with wooden floors. 
There are four girls in each tent, the Super¬ 
visor wrote Dad. We all eat in a big hall made 
of logs.” 

“ Oh, that does sound good.” 

“ And you leave to-morrow? ” 

“ To-morrow noon. Arrive in camp about 
seven or seven-thirty to-morrow evening. We 
have to motor over from the station.” 

“ I do envy you,” sighed Caroline. 

“ Envy me, too,” said Joyce, running up 
the steps. “ Don’t you all think I’m just the 
luckiest person to be going? I can hardly 
wait.” 

“ Is every one here? It’s one o’clock,” 
said Grandma Parsons, bustling out at the 
front door. “ Don’t you look nice, Joyce? Is 
that one of the new dresses? How do you do, 
Caroline? How is your mother? Well, if 
every one is here, come in and find your places. 
Everything is ready.” 

For a moment after the girls seated them¬ 
selves, there was deep silence, for upon the 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 41 

table were neither spoons, forks, nor knives. 
There was no silver of any sort. Patricia 
flushed uncomfortably. She looked at Grand¬ 
ma Parsons, who stood in the doorway. 

“ I told you you should have let me help 
you,” said Patricia. “ You didn’t finish set¬ 
ting the table.” 

“ Oh, yes, I did,” Grandma answered with a 
smile. “ This is a ‘ Made-Before ’ luncheon.” 

“ A what? ” chorused the girls. 

“ A ‘ Made-Before ’ luncheon. Fingers were 
made before forks. See how nicely it works 
out.” 

“ What a lark! ” laughed Leile Grey. 

Immediately the girls were in an uproar. 

“ How different! ” 

“ What fun! ” 

“ Grandma Parsons, isn’t that just like 
you! ” 

The first course consisted of canteloupe 
sliced very thin and cut in short pieces. 

The next course consisted of lamb chops 
with dainty paper frills for handles, potato 
chips, buttered rolls and olives. Hardly had 
the girls started to eat than Leile had an acci- 


42 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


dent. She attempted to take a drink of water, 
but the liquid seeped over the edge of the 
glass and dripped down on her plate. Some¬ 
what embarrassed, Leile looked around. No 
one seemed to be noticing but Joyce, who had 
a merry twinkle in her eye. 

Leile hastily put the glass down, but a sec¬ 
ond attempt was no more successful. Several 
of the girls noticed it this time. 

“ Whatever is the matter with this glass? 
Grandma Parsons, what have you done to it? ” 

Joyce could no longer control her laughter. 

“It is a trick glass,” she explained. 
“ There’s a row of tiny holes all around the 
top. You can’t see them because the etching 
covers them.” 

“You mean thing! ” Leile joined in the 
general laughter. 

“ I thought I’d take it to camp,” said Joyce, 
“ and I wanted to try it out here first. Did 
I nearly drown you, Leile? ” 

“You did, and you needn’t say you’re sorry, 
for I know you’re not,” Leile retorted good- 
naturedly. “ I do wish I were going to camp 
with you two. What fun you’ll have! ” 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 43 

“ I absolutely can’t imagine what Grandma 
Parsons will give us for dessert. I refuse to 
eat apple pie or ice-cream with my fingers,” 
reached the ears of the hostess. 

Grandma Parsons smiled. 

“ Don’t worry.” 

Dessert consisted of cake, black coffee, and— 
ice-cream cones! 

Eagerly the girls devoured this, and de¬ 
manded finger-bowls. 

Grouped on the porch, they sewed busily all 
afternoon, Joyce and Patricia giving unneces¬ 
sary advice. Every one was really regretful 
when it was time to leave. 

“ We’ve had such fun, Grandma Parsons. 
Why—what can that be? ” 

An imposing vehicle had drawn up to the 
curb in front of the Parsons’ residence. Huge 
and ponderous, four seats high in the air, this 
huge wagon was drawn by four horses, and 
Ray was driving them. 

“ Why,” shrieked Joyce, “ the old Tally- 
ho ! ” She ran down to the curb. “ Where did 
you ever find it, Ray? How did you ever 
think of it? This is your surprise? ” 


44 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Right, the first guess. Where are Mr. and 
Mrs. Strickland? ” 

“ Are they going, too? ” 

“ Yes. So are Mother and Dad.” 

“ What a lark! ” 

The girls all gathered around the ponderous 
Tally-ho. 

“ Three steps up to that seat. My gracious, 
Patricia! You’ll never get there.” 

“ Indeed I will.” 

Soon the whole family was assembled in the 
Tally-ho, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, and Mr. and 
Mrs. Strickland. Grandma Parsons climbed 
to her place with considerable energy, and 
Grandpa followed meekly. With much shout¬ 
ing and pulling and tugging, Bobbie and Tim- 
mie managed to get Bingo into one of the 
high seats, where he crouched. So much hilar¬ 
ity was caused by this performance that Ray 
had all he could do to keep the horses quiet. 
Patricia was on the front seat beside him, ad¬ 
miring his horsemanship. Joyce had darted 
back into the house, and came running out 
breathless. She climbed to the seat beside Pat¬ 
ricia and Raoul, and settled herself with a sigh. 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 45 

“ Where’s Irma? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Oh, she just had a call from Celia Lau¬ 
rence. She’s not going with us.” 

“ I’m sorry,” said Patricia. 

“ Are we all ready? ” asked Ray. 

“ Are you sure you have the lunch, Ray? ” 
asked Mrs. Hunter. 

“ Mrs. Strickland and Grandma Parsons at¬ 
tended to that.” 

“ Food! ” groaned Joyce. “I’m still think¬ 
ing about Grandma Parsons’ wonderful 
‘ Made-Before ’ luncheon.” 

With much laughter and commotion, they 
drove through town. Every one turned to 
gaze after them. 

“ If one really wanted to attract attention 
in New York, I believe this would be the way 
to do it.” Mrs. Strickland laughed. 

“ I can remember when an automobile 
caused a great deal more excitement than this,” 
said Grandma Parsons. 

“ And now we see them by the thousands 
and never notice them, while a horse attracts 
considerable attention.” Mr. Hunter sighed. 
He was extremely fond of animals. 


46 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“Poor old Dad!” Joyce looked at her 
father affectionately. “He’d banish every 
automobile from the face of the earth if he 
could.” 

“ Hardly that,” replied Mr. Hunter; “ they 
are very necessary, for commercial purposes, 
especially, but horses—are neglected.” 

“ Where are we going? ” Joyce asked Ray. 
“ Not to Flat Rock? ” 

“No. Mrs. Strickland suggested Piney 
Woods.” 

“ Oh, lovely! ” Joyce clapped her hands. 

“ I haven’t been there since I was a girl,” 
Mrs. Strickland explained. “ I want Patricia 
to see them. I loved them so. I used to walk 
out there at least once a week.” 

“Do you remember the time,” chimed in 
Grandma Parsons, “ when you ran away from 
home? ” 

Mrs. Strickland laughed merrily. 

“ I’ll never forget it. I was horribly abused. 
I had a new dress and wanted to wear it, and 
couldn’t. I told Mother I was going to run 

away and live in Piney Woods, alone, all the 
rest of my life.” 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 47 

“ What did Grandma Parsons do? ” asked 
Patricia. 

Mrs. Strickland smiled. 

“ She packed me a nice little lunch, kissed 
me good-bye and started me off. I reached 

Piney Woods all right, ate my lunch at once, 

* 

and had a good cry. Then it grew rather late 
in the afternoon, and I began to think about 
the dark. Well, I hurried back to town, but 
I still had some spunk left. I sat outside the 
house on the steps. I could smell the best 
smells. Supper was being prepared—all my 
favorite dishes. I did so want to go in, but 
couldn’t quite make up my mind. Just about 
that time one of the neighbors came along on 
an errand. 

“ 4 Is your mother home, Molly?’ she asked. 

“ ‘ I don’t know,’ I replied forlornly. 

Don’t know!’ 

“ ‘No,’ I said, in a mournful voice, ‘ you 
know I don’t live here any longer.’ ” 

Every one shouted with laughter at Mrs. 
Strickland’s picture of herself. Mrs. Strick¬ 
land’s laughter was the merriest of all. 

“ What happened? ” asked Joyce. 


48 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

\ 

“ The neighbor went in, and of course 
Mother came out and I sobbed in her arms. 
Cured me, though, of being so foolish.” 

A grim smile rested on Grandma Parsons’ 
face. 

“You never knew what a long afternoon 
that was for me,” she confessed. 

Soon the Tally-ho drew up in the grove 
known as Piney Woods. The trees, old and 
tall, and not too crowded, covered considerable 
space, while the ground below them was filled 
with pine needles. The air was fragrant with 
their odor. A camp-fire was soon built and 
lunch brought out of the hampers. 

“ O goody! ” cried Bobbie. “ We’re going 
to have fried chicken.” 

“ Where did you get those marvelous marsh¬ 
mallows and individual cocoanut cakes? ” asked 
Patricia. 

“ Your mother brought them from Minne¬ 
apolis.” 

“ And look at that potato salad. I’m posi- 
tivelv starved.” 

“ Oh,” groaned Joyce, “ I wish I hadn’t 
eaten so much of the luncheon.” 


THE “ MADE-BEFORE ” LUNCHEON 49 


“ That’s what you get for being greedy,” 
teased Ray. “ Now I’ve fasted all day.” 

“ Except at noon and breakfast time,” in¬ 
terrupted Mrs. Hunter. 

“ I enjoy eating by a camp-fire as much as 
ever; more than ever,” said Mrs. Strickland. 

“ And to think we are going to have a whole 
summer of it.” Joyce was enthusiastic. 

“ Gee! ” said Bobbie. “ Will you have good 
things to eat, like this, every day? ” 

His voice was so mournful that every one 
laughed. 

“ Look! ” Patricia pointed to the west. 

The sky was a mass of vivid pink, pale green 
and saffron, streaked with gold. For a moment 
every one grew silent, only the tall trees above 
murmuring and whispering. 

“ Minnesota does have beautiful sunsets,” 
asserted Grandma Parsons. 

“ You seem to feel you own them,” teased 
her daughter. 

“ I do. I own every bit of beautiful scenery 
I have ever seen. It is a priceless collection.” 

“ Mother, you always did punish me just 
right,” said Mrs. Strickland ruefully. 


50 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ She’s a wonderfully wise person.” Pat¬ 
ricia smiled at her grandmother. “I’ve learned 
that.” 

“ And in return for such a nice compliment, 
she is going to tell us tales of her childhood,” 
begged Joyce. 

The evening passed quickly. The ride home 
in the moonlight was like driving through 
fairyland. 

“ I think family picnics are nicest of all,” 
said Joyce with a satisfied sigh, as she tumbled 
into bed. 


CHAPTER IV 


CAMP O JIB AW A 

Camp had been in operation nearly a week 
when Patricia and Joyce arrived. Indeed they 
were very fortunate to have obtained a place, 
for Camp Ojibawa was a very popular one. 

A number of small tents surrounded the 
main tent where the instructors and authorities 
slept. Each small tent accommodated four 
girls. Patricia and Joyce shared a tent with 
two other girls of widely different appearance 
and dispositions. Sally Orcutt, slight, small, 
dark, with mischief dancing in her dark eyes, 
greeted them gaily. While they unpacked, she 
sat with her feet curled up under her on her 
cot and chatted. Her home, she told them, was 
in “ Lowvil.” It was three weeks later that 
Joyce realized that she had meant Louisville, 
Kentucky, and not Lowell, Massachusetts. 

“ This is camp-fire time,” her soft voice 

drawled on, “ but I slipped away after I mur- 

51 


52 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


mured ‘ present.’ Don’t tell Ole Ginny, ; 
though, or she’ll give me a terrible walloping.” 

“ Who? ” asked Patricia. 

“ She would really, would she? ” asked 
Joyce. 

“Now whom am I to answer? ” 

“ Both of us,” said Joyce, smiling. 

“Well then: ‘Ole Ginny ’ is disrespectful 
for Miss McGinnery. She has charge of camp¬ 
fire every night. She does know a heap about 
stars, and you’ll like her, I know. But—here 
I am. As to her giving me a walloping, I 
don’t know. I’d hate to tempt her too far.” 

“ Then why did you come? ” 

“ I was just everlastingly consumed with 
curiosity to see you two.” 

Patricia and Joyce laughed merrily. 

“ At least, you’re honest,” said Patricia. 

“ Of course. Don’t believe in fibbing. 
Never did. Better for me, maybe, if I did.” 

“ Why do you say that? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Oh, I’m always into scrapes. Maybe I 
wouldn’t be if I could lie out of them once in 
a while; but I never can.” 

She sighed deeply, and Joyce and Patricia 


CAMP OJIBAWA 


53 


laughed heartily again. Sally looked at them 
quickly, and then her very white teeth flashed 
in a smile, too. 

“ I reckon we’re going to get along first 
rate.” 

“ I reckon so, too,” said Patricia. “ Who 
has the other cot? ” 

“ Oh, her name is Pearson.” 

“ Pearson what? ” 

44 No.” Sally shook her head. “ You mean 
‘ What Pearson ’ ! ” 

44 All right.” Joyce was highly amused. 
“ What Pearson, then? ” 

Sally looked around quickly, furtively, then 
put her finger to her lips. She leaned closer 
to the girls as though about to reveal a deep 
secret. Instinctively, Patricia and Joyce drew 
nearer at this pantomime. In a low voice, 
Sally confided: 

“ I think she was christened Amanda, but 
she insists her name is Gwendolyn, with the 
accent on the 4 lyn.’ ” 

44 You goose!” Patricia laughed as she 
straightened. 44 Gwendolyn Pearson. Not a 
bad name.” 


54 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ From Pearsonville, Pa. One, two, three. 
One, two, three.” 

“ What are you doing? ” Joyce giggled, for 
Sally was off her cot, and going through vigor¬ 
ous exercises. 

“ Oh, just taking the kinks out of my legs. 
I must run back to camp-fire—and I do hope 
they haven’t missed me.” 

“ It hasn’t seemed to worry you greatly.” 

“ Never does, until it’s time to get 
‘ cotched.’ ” 

With another flashing smile, Sally disap¬ 
peared into the darkness beyond the tent. 

“ Well,” Patricia drew a long breath, “ I 
only hope we’ll like Miss Pearson as well as 
we do Sally. What did she say her last name 
was? ” 

“ She didn’t say.” Joyce was still smiling to 
herself over Sally’s remarks. 

But Gwendolyn Pearson was a very dif¬ 
ferent sort of girl from Sally. Gwendolyn was 
very large, very blond, and very indifferent. 
She came in late, after Patricia and Joyce were 
both ready for sleep, and Sally, ready, too, had 
taken a few minutes to manicure her nails. 



CAMP OJIBAWA 


55 


The tent flap rustled. With a single agile 
movement, Sally slid between her blankets. 

“ Oh, hello, Mandy,” she drawled in a sleepy 
voice. “ You’ll have to roll the tent sides to¬ 
night. I’m in bed.” 

“ Very well,” said Gwendolyn, languidly. 
“ Are these our two new tent mates? You 
might introduce me, Sally.” 

“ Of course.” Sally sat bolt upright, wide 
awake again. “ The tall, beautiful one (you 
can’t tell she’s tall while she’s lying down, 
though, can you?)—well, anyway, she’s Pat¬ 
ricia, and the black-haired one is Joyce. I 
don’t know their last names. No one intro¬ 
duced me.” 

Sally slid back again suddenly, and pre¬ 
tended to sleep. 

Gwendolyn Pearson blushed a little, and 
nodded formally to the girls. 

“How do you do?” Her voice was very 
prim. 

“ I’m Patricia Strickland,” Patricia intro¬ 
duced herself, then looked toward Joyce; but 
Joyce was gasping with laughter and could 
not speak. “ And yonder is Joyce Hunter.” 


56 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Hello/’ gasped Joyce. “ I’m sorry, but 

Sally made a face as she went down, and-” 

Again she was off in a gale of laughter. 

“ Sally, what did you say your last name 
was? ” asked Patricia, trying to put Gwen¬ 
dolyn in a little less difficult position. 

“ Mine? ” Sally opened one eye. “ Oh— 
Orcutt. I’m glad you asked me, because it is 
the only name I ever can remember.” 

Joyce gasped for breath and began laugh¬ 
ing again. Patricia paused for a moment, and 
then joined Joyce’s mirth. 

“ I really can see no cause for all this hilar¬ 
ity,” said Gwendolyn in a very cool voice. 
“ My name is Gwendolyn Pearson. I come 
from Philadelphia.” 

Patricia sobered instantly. “ Oh, really? I 
thought Sally said you lived in Pearsonville, 
and I’d never heard of it. I thought perhaps 
it was a suburb of Philadelphia.” 

Gwendolyn whirled furiously. Sally’s eyes 
flew wide open, and looked at her. “ Oh—ah 
—of course, that’s really where I do live, but 
you see it’s so near Philadelphia—so very near, 
that it’s practically a suburb.” 




CAMP OJIBAWA 


57 


“ Ah, yes. Even so,” said Sally, and turned 
her back, in order really to sleep this time. 

Gwendolyn glared at her, then haughtily 
turned her own back, and vouchsafed no fur¬ 
ther conversation. But Joyce and Patricia, 
both tired from the trip, were glad enough for 
the quiet and were asleep long before Gwen¬ 
dolyn went outside to roll up the tent sides. 
And though Joyce shivered a little in the night 
and crawled deeper under her blankets when 
the fresh breeze from the starlit lake blew 
across her, she did not wake until the morning 
bugle-call. 

Joyce rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

“ O dear! It’s only been about five minutes 
since I went to bed.” 

Sally woke up and looked at her sleepily. 

“ I hate to get up, I hate to get up, I hate 
to get up in the morning,” Joyce hummed to 
her. 

“ Mustn’t sing,” said Sally. 

“ Why not? Against camp rules? ” 

“ No, that’s one thing they do approve of. 
But it’s bad luck to sing before breakfast— 
means a disappointment or something.” 


58 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Joyce laughed. 

“ How ridiculous! ” Gwendolyn’s voice was 
very superior. 

Sally stretched luxuriously and winked at 
Joyce. 

“ Well, I must admit that those things 
seldom work out, but somehow I keep right on 
believing them.” 

“ It seems to me-” began Gwendolyn. 

“ O my goodness! That can’t be the second 
bugle! Hurry!” 

Sally tumbled off her cot and into her uni¬ 
form in two motions. “ Where’s Patricia? 
Tell her to hurry. We’re late now, and that’s 
a black mark against the tent.” 

“ I’m out here.” Patricia looked into the 
tent. “ I’ve been out here, watching the lake.” 

“ Afraid it will run away? ” asked Sally. 

“ It’s beautiful this time of day,” insisted 
Patricia. 

“ Such energy,” groaned Sally. “ Child 
alive! You can see the lake all day.” 

At a sharp whistle the three girls all lined 
before their tent. Gwendolyn was deliberately 
slow, and five minutes late. Sally was fuming 



CAMP OJIBAWA 


59 


inwardly, but said nothing. Each tent had 
four girls in a straight line before it. Roll-call 
was answered promptly, and then for ten min¬ 
utes every one did vigorous setting-up exer¬ 
cises under the direction of Miss Adams, 
the athletic director. 

“ And now, any one who wishes to do so 
may go into the lake for ten minutes. Break¬ 
fast at eight sharp. That’s all.” 

“ Oh, I’m going down.” Joyce shivered a 
little, as she changed to her bathing-suit, in 
anticipation of the icy plunge. 

“ Believe I will, too.” Sally’s speech was 
slow, but her motions quick. “ Coming, 
Patty? ” 

Joyce gasped for a minute, and held her 
breath. She knew how Patricia disliked to be 
called “ Patty.” But there was something 
irresistible in Sally’s impish manner and 
piquant face. Patricia stared for a moment 
and then smiled. Somehow that smile made 
Jovce think of Grandma Parsons. 

“ Why, yes, Sarah, if you are going, I’ll 
go, too.” 

Sally looked at her a minute, then chuckled. 


60 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ That’s fair enough. Evidently you hate 
4 Patty ’ as much as I hate 4 Sarah.’ It’s a 
compact. Every time I call you 4 Patty,’ you 
call me 4 Sarah.’ But if any one else in camp 
dares to call me by that horrid name, I’ll—I’ll 
—I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

She ^glared around fiercely. 

44 How childish you are,” reproved Gwen¬ 
dolyn. 

Joyce was half-way down the slope to the 
lake. 

44 If you two don’t hurry, you’ll be late for 
breakfast, and I’ll eat your share.” 

Before the last words were out of her mouth, 
Sally flashed by her. They raced to the spring¬ 
board, but Sally, many feet in advance, flashed 
through the air in a beautiful dive. Joyce fol¬ 
lowed quickly with a jump, and in a minute 
Patricia joined them. 

44 Race you to the big diving-board. It’s 
about all we have time for before breakfast.” 

She pointed to where, some distance away, a 
platform carrying a large spring-board was 
anchored. 

The three girls splashed and shouted as they 


CAMP OJIBAWA 


61 


moved swiftly through the chilly water. The 
water sparkled and danced in the early morn¬ 
ing sunlight. Joyce felt her blood leaping in 
exultation, in the joy of health and life and 
fine spirits. 

Sally reached the platform first, with Pat¬ 
ricia close behind her. Joyce was decidedly 
third. 

“Gracious!” teased Sally. “You’re a 
regular turtle. Have you a stone tied to your 
feet? ” 

Joyce shook the water from her face and 
eyes. She spoke rather ruefully. 

“ I’m not much of a swimmer. Opportuni¬ 
ties were never too plentiful in Westcott. In 
spite of Minnesota’s ten thousand lakes, we 
only drew a river, none too good for swim¬ 
ming, either. But I do love to swim, and I’ll 
learn.” 

“ Well, I for one am ready for breakfast.” 
Patricia slid easily into the water again. 

Leisurely the three girls swam back to shore, 
and raced for their tent. 

Breakfast was ready by the time they 
reached the dining-hall, and bacon and eggs, 


62 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


hot rolls, with cocoa or coffee made a very 
satisfying meal. 

The dining-hall was long and built of rough- 
hewn logs. Three long tables reached from 
end to end, comfortably accommodating the 
thirty-two girls as well as the older persons 
in charge of the camp. Every one had her 
own place. Mrs. Pemberton, head of the 
camp, had the seat of honor at the head table. 
When the gong sounded, each girl stood while 
roll was called, and a short blessing asked. 
Then every one scrambled into place and ate 
ravenously. Fresh air and exercise produced 
unusual appetites. The meals were very in¬ 
formal ; large dishes filled with food were 
passed from hand to hand. The food was 
simple and plentiful, but no waste was allowed. 
Whatever a girl took on her plate, she must 
eat, or pay a penalty. It was something of a 
game, and the penalty was always ridiculous; 
and since none of the girls enjoyed being 
laughed at in such a manner, they were very 
careful to clean their plates. 

On this very first morning, Gwendolyn 
took more prunes than she could eat. For a 


CAMP O JIB AW A 


63 


forfeit, the girls at her table voted that she 
must take her plate and finish her meal on the 
door-step. Gwendolyn went because she must, 
but she did not go cheerfully, nor attempt to 
make the best of the joke. She went sulkily, 
holding her plate gingerly before her. 

After breakfast came the most-hated chore 
of the whole day—dish-washing! The cook 
and her assistants were so busy preparing the 
day’s food for so many girls, keeping the 
kitchen in order, baking delicious bread, cakes, 
and pies, that the washing of the breakfast 
dishes fell to the lot of the girls. Girls from 
three tents were chosen at one time. These 
worked for three days, then another dozen re¬ 
placed them for another three days, and the 
circle continued. Those who were not busy at 
dish-washing rushed to their tents to prepare 
for Inspection. 

“ And it certainly is spelled with a big ‘ I,’ ” 
Sally told Patricia and Joyce; “ if they find a 
speck of straw on the floor, or a pin out of 
place, down goes a black mark.” 

“ Surely not that bad,” said Joyce. 

“ You just wait and see.” 



64 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Who does the inspecting? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ Some of those in charge of camp; generally 
Miss McGinnery or Miss Adams. One of 
them goes through the tent while the other 
goes over our personal appearance.” 

“O my goodness!” gasped Joyce. “My 
finger-nails! How can you keep them clean 
with so much dirt around? ” 

“ Finger-nails and hair, and no holes in our 
stockings—dear old Granny wouldn’t believe 
her eyes if she could see me now! ” 

“ She must be as bad as Grandma Parsons,” 
said Joyce. 

“Bad!” Sally whirled on her. “There 
isn’t a bad bone in her anywhere. She’s just 
the dearest, sweetest, softest grandmother a 
girl ever had. Call your own grandmother bad 
if you want to, but don’t call mine so.” 

“ Oh,” gasped Joyce. “ I didn’t mean—and 
anyway, Grandma Parsons isn’t my grand¬ 
mother.” 

“ She’s mine,” spoke up Patricia, “ and 
some of these days she’s coming to visit camp, 
and you can meet her. Come along now and 


CAMP OJIBAWA 65 

show us what we are supposed to do in our 
tent.” 

“Where’s Gwendolyn? ” asked Joyce look¬ 
ing around. 

“ Oh, shell show up—when the work’s 
done.” 

“ Sally! ” reproved Patricia. 

“ All right; but you’ll see.” 

At any rate, Gwendolyn was not in sight 
when the three girls returned to the tent. Cots 
were pulled out to air in the sunlight, kit-bags 
were carefully inspected and repacked, the 
wooden floor of the tent was vigorously swept. 
Then the cots were made up and replaced in 
the tent, and everything put in order. Patricia 
worked as hard as Joyce. 

“ I do wish Gwendolyn would hurry.” Sally 
looked worried. “We alreadv have one black 
mark, and if her bed is left out there—like 
that-” 

“ Why have we a black mark? ” 

“ Oh, Gwendolyn was late for exercises, hut 
that doesn’t matter so much. But they give a 
yellow ribbon for the best tent each morning, 
and when you have six yellow ribbons, you get 




66 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

a white. If you can win three white ribbons, 
you are entitled to a Special Privilege.” 

“ And what is that? ” 

“ For a whole day you can do exactly as you 
choose—and I do want it.” 

A sudden unexpected intensity in Sally’s 
voice made each of the others look at her in 
surprise. 

“ Where is Gwendolyn, then? Why don’t 
you call her? ” 

“ Oh, I suppose she’s visiting with Helen 
Trowbridge.” 

“Helen Trowbridge!” exclaimed Patricia 
in surprise. “ Helen Trowbridge from New 
York? ” 

“Yes. Do you know her? ” 

Patricia flushed and tossed her head. “ I’ve 
heard of her.” 

Joyce looked at her quickly. It had been 
a good many months since she had heard that 
tone in Patricia’s voice. 

“ Maybe Gwendolyn will introduce you. 
She thinks Helen Trowbridge is quite the 
thing. Personally, I think—but if she is a 
friend of yours, I won’t think aloud.” 



CAMP OJIBAWA 


67 


“ She’s no friend of mine, thank you. And 
what’s more I do not wish to meet her.” 

“ Why, Patricia? ” asked Joyce. “ What is 
the matter with her? ” 

“ She-” began Patricia, disdain in her 

voice. 

“ Ssh! ” warned Sally, “ here comes Gwen¬ 
dolyn. Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted the 
other girl. “We are giving your bed a good 
airing.” 

“So I see.” Gwendolyn was unusually 
languid. “ Well, I suppose I must make it, 
although I am not accustomed to such work.” 

“ I am,” drawled Sally. “ I make my own 
and Granny’s and Dr. Orcutt’s, and the cook’s, 
and both the maids’, and the chauffeur’s-” 

“ And the washerwoman’s,” added Joyce 
laughing. “ Sally, you are a goose. And who 
is Dr. Orcutt? ” 

“ Dr. Orcutt? That’s my dear and precious 
only Dad.” 

Soon the small tent was immaculate, ready 
for inspection. Gwendolyn brought in some 
mud on her feet, but Joyce good-naturedly 
swept it out. 




68 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

But the tent received no ribbon that day. 
Joyce, in the general excitement, had forgotten 
to polish her shoes. Patricia was always im¬ 
maculate, but Joyce many times neglected her 
personal appearance. The tent next in line 
had an absolutely perfect mark, and received 
the desired ribbon. 

Joyce was disconsolate. 

“ Sally, I am so sorry. It really was all my 
fault.” 

Sally capered about. 

“ Don’t let that worry you. It’s your first 
day. You’ll soon learn. You should have 
seen the black marks I got the first day.” 

“ You’re a dear,” said Joyce gratefully. 

Gwendolyn snorted from her side of the 
tent. 

“ But if you are late again to-morrow morn¬ 
ing, Gwendolyn, I’ll throw a cup of cold 
water on you.” 

“Just try it!” Gwendolyn’s tone was in¬ 
dignant. 

“ Maybe I will.” Sally giggled. “ Come 
on, every one. There goes the whistle for 
games.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 

The girls had their choice of tennis, outdoor 
basket-ball, or push-ball; but before these were 
started, a half an hour was devoted to general 
games. 

Gwendolyn came down leisurely, long after 
the other girls had assembled. She was arm- 
in-arm with another girl. The minute Patricia 
saw them, she immediately feigned interest in 

something in the middle of the lake. Joyce 

/ 

noticed this. She gazed stupidly at the lake, 
but aside from two or three loons flying about, 
nothing of interest was to be seen. Suddenly, 
however, the solution occurred to Joyce. 

“ That must be Helen Trowbridge,” she 
thought. 

She turned eagerly to inspect the new girl. 

Slight, of medium height, bobbed hair with a 

permanent wave in it, she gave the impression 

of being very unused to camp conditions. Al- 

69 


70 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

though Camp Ojibawa was far from primitive, 
still many modern conveniences were lacking; 
shower-baths, for instance, and rocking-chairs. 
Even the camp costume which this girl wore 
seemed to emanate a superficial daintiness. 
Her pose was haughty. Joyce shrugged her 
shoulders. She had the same air of snobbish¬ 
ness Patricia had worn when she first arrived 
in Westcott, but this girl lacked entirely Pat¬ 
ricia’s grace and charm. 

“ Behold the flapper! ” said Sally in an un¬ 
dertone to Joyce. She took a step or two in 
imitation of the other girl’s too dainty walk. 

“ Sallv,” protested Joyce. “ She’ll see you. 
Who is she? ” 

“ Our noble camp flapper, Miss Helen 
Trowbridge of New York City, and woe to 
you if you call her other than Miss Trow¬ 
bridge.” 

“ Oh, no,” protested Joyce, laughing. 

“ Try it, and see. What ails your friend 
Patricia? ” 

“ Evidently she doesn’t care for Miss Trow¬ 
bridge,” said Joyce. “ I wonder why! ” 

“ Ha! A mystery in our mid-st.” 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


71 


“ That’s the second one this morning,” said 
Joyce. 

“ The second one? What’s the first? ” Sally 
turned big eyes on Joyce. 

“ You.” Joyce smiled. 

“Me? How? Where? What do you 
mean? ” 

“You were so desperately anxious to get 
that extra day free, for good marks in our 
tent.” 

“Oh!” Sally turned away abruptly. 
“ Want to be leader on the other side? ” 

“Not to-day,” said Joyce. “I’m new; don’t 
know any of the other girls. I’d-” 

A whistle blew shrilly. 

All the girls became instantly quiet. A 
young woman, very athletic-looking, her main 
feature a broad smile, stepped before the as¬ 
sembled girls. 

“ Ginny,” whispered Sally in an audible 
voice. Miss McGinnery heard her. Again the 
smile flashed. 

“ Oh, you Sally Orcutt,” she called. “ If 
you are going to introduce me, come up here 
and do it aloud.” 



72 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

A shout of laughter greeted this. Sally, 
nothing daunted, pranced forward and took 
her place by Miss McGinnery’s side. 

“ ‘ Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me 

your ears-’ No, don’t! I wouldn’t know 

what to do with them. But upon my left, be¬ 
hold the one and only noble Ginny. To most 
of you she is known by the name of Miss 
McGinnery. Desperate mistake. Call her 
Ginny.” 

“ Sally, you’re dismissed.” But Miss 
McGinnery could not refrain from a smile. 

“ Good! I don’t have to stay for games.” 
Sally made as though to leave. 

44 Couldn’t drive you away with a club, and 
you well know it. Go back to your place. You 
can be leader in a minute. I’m going to place 
a new girl against you. Joyce Hunter, step 
forward please.” 

Joyce shyly stood forward. 

“ Stand over near Sally Orcutt. Now, I’ll 
explain the game to you. We have one or two 
games like this each day, just to ‘ warm up.’ 
To-day, especially, we want you all to feel 
better acquainted. Any girl who can think of 



THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


73 


a new game may do so, and will be given a 
mark towards Camp Featherhead. Now Sally 
and Joyce each choose sixteen girls on a side. 
Now stand about fifteen feet apart, forming a 
circle. Each leader will be given a bean-bag. 
This will be thrown from girl to girl, each 
circle keeping to its own bag. When a bag is 
returned to Sally or to Joyce, she calls ‘ one.’ 
The bag which can complete five trips first 
wins. But remember, if the bag drops clear to 
the ground, it must start that trip over com¬ 
pletely.” 

Choosing went rapidly. Joyce took Patricia 
first of all. In a few minutes, there was no one 
left but GAvendolyn and Helen TroAvbridge. 
It was Sally’s choice. 

“ Gwendolyn Pearson,” she called. 

Joyce gulped. 

“ Miss Helen Trowbridge,” she said aloud. 
A smile went around among the girls, but Miss 
Helen TroAvbridge ignored it, if she saAV it. 
She stepped daintily to her place in line. 

Sally was given a blue bean-bag, Joyce a 
red one. Fast and furiously the bags went 
from girl to girl. Often the aim was poor. 


74 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

and many wild leaps and dives were made by 
the catchers, but the red bag reached Joyce 
safely without once having fallen to the 
ground. 

“ One,” she called, and tossed the bag to 
Patricia on its second round. Sally’s voice 
rang out a second later. “ One,” she called 
also. Then Joyce, watching her rivals, saw 
the blue bag fall. 

“ Quick,” called Sally, dancing up and 
down. “ Quick, throw it here.” 

But the girl who had dropped it was excited 
and fumbled. 

Sally watched the red bag out of the corner 
of her eye. 

“ Oh, hurry! ” she urged. 

At last, Sally again had the bag started on 
its second round, and then a groan arose from 
Joyce’s circle. Almost at the end of the round 
stood Helen Trowbridge, and reaching daintily 
for the bag, she missed it. It fell with a dull 
thud. 

“Quick!” Joyce reached out her hand. 
“ Throw it to me.” 

Before the red bag was half-way round, 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


75 


Sally sang out “ Two.” Joyce’s “ Two ” was 
late; but Sally’s “ Three ” was only a minute 
ahead of Joyce’s, and their “ Fours ” were to¬ 
gether. Everybody was excited now, dancing 
up and down, shouting for speed. And just 
as the bag rose toward Sally, she jumped for 
it in her excitement, and missed it entirely. 

“ Five,” sang out Joyce. 

“ We win,” cried the girls in Joyce’s circle. 

“ And we lose! ” Sally pretended to mop her 
tears with her handkerchief, and then to wring 
out the handkerchief. “ But we really are the 
better players.” 

“ Hear! Hear! ” called Joyce’s circle. 

“ Let’s try again,” suggested some one in 
Sally’s circle. 

“ Not to-day,” said Miss McGinnery, with 
a laugh. “ I want to try out a few for running. 
You know we have field day during Guest 
Week. (That’s our closing week.) We pre¬ 
pare for it early. First to-day we’ll have a 
general, free-for-all dash, and the winners can 
run a relay. Too many of you to run, at once. 
We’ll have to have two divisions, I guess.” 

Along the firm white sand of the beach, six- 


76 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


teen of the girls lined up. It was only a short 
dash, and Patricia and Sally were easily among 
the leaders. In the second group, Joyce, and, 
to every one’s surprise, Helen Trowbridge, 
tied. 

“ Now for the relay,” said Miss McGinnery. 
“ Joyce Hunter, Sally Orcutt, and Marjorie 
Go wan in the order named. Joyce, you are 
to run down the line to Sally and touch her; 
then she will run to Marjorie and touch her; 
Marjorie will finish the race. Team two—Pat¬ 
ricia Strickland will run to Helen Trow¬ 
bridge; Helen will run to Janet Cairns, and 
Janet will finish. Sally and Helen go part 
way down the course; Marjorie and Janet go 
down by that big rock. There. All ready 
now? Joyce and Patricia—on your mark—get 
set—Go! ” 

Joyce was a splendid runner, but Patricia 
was fleet, too, and side by side, they reached 
the seconds in line. Sally easily outran Helen, 
who had suddenly lost interest in the event; 
Janet Cairns had a late start, but even so, she 
nearly caught up with Marjorie Go wan. But 
once more, Joyce’s side won. 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


77 


Sally looked at her in awe. 

“ Is this your lueky day? Listen, every one, 
this is Joyce Hunter, the Lucky Leader.” 

“ If we are going in for euphonious nick¬ 
names,” said Miss McGinnery, “ I think we 
will call you ‘ Sally, the Superstitious/ Now, 
for tennis, basket-ball, or push-ball.” 

Teams were soon formed, and all these 
games were played until time for the morning 
swimming-hour. 

“ Rest fifteen minutes before you get into 
your suits, girls. There are three choices for 
this afternoon: basket-weaving, bird and flower 
hunting, or horseback riding. Be sure to sign 
up. Remember you can do whichever you 
want, but you must do one.” 

Back in the tent, the girls discussed what 
they wanted to do. 

“ I’m going riding,” announced Patricia. 
“ I haven’t been on horseback since I sent 
Challenge home, and I miss it.” 

“ Oh, no, let’s go bird hunting,” begged 
Sally; ‘‘there are some of the loveliest ones 
about here. I saw two indigo-buntings yes¬ 
terday, and, I think, a purple martin. And 


78 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

there’s the cunningest pair of phcebes build¬ 
ing a nest right under the eaves of the cook 
shanty.” 

“Nest! This time of year?” protested 
Joyce. “ They’re late.” 

“ Miss Adams said she thought perhaps they 
were raising a second brood.” 

“ Do they do that? What kind of birds are 
they? ” Patricia was interested at once. 

“ Oh, do let’s go birding,” again suggested 
Sally. 

“ But I’m lonesome for horseback, too,” said 
Joyce. 

“ All right.” Sally was good-natured. 
“ We’ll go bird hunting next time. You 
haven’t bird books, anyway.” 

“ Bird books? ” Both girls looked surprised. 

“ Oh, yes, blank books, with spaces for 
names, descriptions—all you see and learn of 
the birds; and a special place for any photo¬ 
graphs you are lucky enough to get. I’ve 
spent hours near a nest just waiting to catch 
a snap-shot. You’ve no idea how difficult it is 
to get a picture of a bird. It’s hard enough 
just to see them. And of course we don’t 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


79 


put any names in our books except those we 
really see. That’s what makes bird hunting so 
interesting. And if it’s hard to see them, you 
can imagine how difficult it is to photograph 
them. I suppose that’s one reason it’s so in¬ 
teresting, although I must admit it is fascinat¬ 
ing just to watch the birds themselves. We 
had a wren house in the yard this spring, and 
every time that poor father bird tried to go in 
in a hurry, he couldn’t find the door. I 
watched him one day, and he bumped his head 
so often I know he must have had a headache. 
And then what did he do? Believe it or not, 
he hunted around until he found a long straw. 
Then he fastened it in the doorway so that 
it stuck out as a guide. Every time he came 
home after that, he went in a-whooping, with¬ 
out the least trouble at all. Not so dumb, was 
he? ” 

“ Sally, that just doesn’t seem possible,” 
protested Patricia. 

“ I wouldn’t have believed it, either, if I 
hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Really, I’ve 
seen birds do some of the most interesting 
things. A pair of robins always come to our 


80 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


front porch to nest—at least I think it’s the 
same pair. They have come for three years 
now. They pick a different corner every year. 
Last year, the father bird came ahead, had a 
nice little place picked out, and was all ready 
to settle down. But when the mother bird 
came along, she looked the situation over, 
fussed around a good bit, scolded and fumed, 
and finally decided on an entirely different 
corner.” 

“ Really? ” asked Joyce, with a laugh. 

“ Absolutely. But she wasn’t so wise as you 
might think, at that. She built her nest care¬ 
fully, and it was very securely hidden from any 
one on the ground. And then, the very last 
thing she did, she found a long piece of lace, 
oh, a yard or two of it. Apparently, it ap¬ 
pealed to her; thought she’d have lace curtains 
or something of the sort. Anyhow, she tacked 
it on to the edge of the nest, and there it hung 
all summer, waving in the air. She couldn’t 
have advertised where her home was any more 
successfully if she had intended to do so, 
though happily no one molested it.” 

“ I certainly never knew birds did things 



THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 


81 


like that,” said Patricia. “ Have you a pic¬ 
ture of the nest? ” 

“ It’s in my collection,” said Sally. “ You 
get five points extra for good photographs. 
At the end of camp, a prize goes to the owner 
of the best bird book. It’s really one of the 
big honors of Guest Week.” 

“ Oh, let’s try for that.” Joyce’s enthusiasm 
was always ready to overflow. 

“ No rush,” laughed Sally. “ We’ll get your 
books and be all ready for your next trip. I’d 
rather like to go for a ride to-day, myself. It 
is such a gorgeous day.” 

“ Such an exertion,” said Gwendolyn. 

“ I suppose you’ll ‘ basket-weave ’ ? ” 

“ Of course.” 

“ Well, don’t overdo. Who’ll be first into 
her bathing-suit? ” 

The morning swimming period was the long 
one. Some of the girls went in again in the 
afternoon for a short while, but every one was 
supposed to be present at the morning swim. 
Patricia, used to ocean bathing, excelled here. 
Sally, too, was a splendid swimmer, but Joyce 
was only fair. 


82 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ How do you do it? ” she asked, as she 
climbed out on the diving-board. 

“ It’s a gift.” Sally plunged head first into 
the water, stayed under a full minute, and came 
up smiling. 

“I’ll never learn,” wailed Joyce. 

“Yes you will,” said Patricia. “You do 
very well now, but your stroke is poor. Here, 
like this.” 

She, too, slid into the water, and moved 
gracefully along, as though this were her nat¬ 
ural element. 

Helen Trowbridge and Gwendolyn, swim¬ 
ming side by side, reached the diving-board. 

“ Do you both swim? ” Joyce was eager to 
be friendly. 

“ Some,” answered Gwendolyn languidly. 
Helen Trowbridge did not answer at all. She 
merely stared. On the instant, Gwendolyn 
turned her back on Joyce. 

“ You do stroke so beautifully,” Gwendolyn 
simpered to Helen. 

Joyce, flushing at the snub, turned away. A 
low chuckle seemed to come from the water 
below her, then Sally’s impish face raised it- 


THE FIRST DAY IN CAMP 83 

self from the water, and Sally climbed up be¬ 
side Joyce. 

“ Now will you be good? ” she said in a low 
voice. “You should be ashamed, Joyce 
Hunter, speaking to your betters in such a 
familiar way.” 

Joyce gasped. The snub had hurt for a few 
minutes, but Sally was too ridiculous. Joyce 
giggled. 

“ Hush, Sally, they’ll hear you.” 

“ Wouldn’t that be too bad? ” 

“ Wouldn’t what be too bad? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia, as she joined them, shaking the water 
from her head. 

“ Gwendolyn and Miss Trowbridge have 
just deigned to ignore Joyce here. They tried 
it on me, once, but I ‘ deigned ’ right back at 
them.” 

Patricia’s eyes snapped fire. She half rose. 

“Who cares?” Joyce jumped up quickly 
to prevent an outbreak on Patricia’s part. 
“ There’s breeze and sunshine, green grass, 
blue sky, and a bluer lake. Come on, teach me 
that stroke of yours, Patricia. Who cares for 
a little thing like a snub? ” 


84 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Good girl, Joyce,” said Sally. 
But Patricia’s eyes still snapped. 
“I do,” she said. 



The snub had hurt for a few minutes, but Sally was 

TOO RIDICULOUS.— Page 83 . 






























CHAPTER VI 


“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 

Lunch was hearty and very much appreci¬ 
ated. The girls had developed enormous ap¬ 
petites from the games and the swimming. 

“O-oh!” Joyce stretched out on her cot 
after the meal was over. “ I almost wish I 
hadn’t signed up for a horseback ride. I’d 
like to take a nap.” 

“ Take away,” said Sally, “ although I have 
never been able to figure out where one 
* takes ’ a nap from.” 

“ But I have to be ready when the whistle 
blows.” 

“ That won’t blow until two-thirty. Every 
day from lunch time until two-thirty we can 
do as we please. We must keep quiet until 
two, but we can sleep or write or read as long 
as we keep in our tent.” 

“ How heavenly! ” sighed Joyce. “ Good¬ 
night, every one.” 


85 


86 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ From two until two-thirty,” Sally went on 
calmly. “ We can do just as we please. 
That’s when I do the disappearing act.” 

“ Where do you go? ” Joyce asked sleepily. 

“ You’d be surprised! ” There was a queer 
little smile on Sally’s face. 

Joyce sat up wide-awake. 

“ Do tell me,” she begged. 

44 Hush, baby, hush,” crooned Sally. “ Here 
comes Patricia, and she looks peeved. What 
a lovely name: Patricia, the Peeved.” 

Patricia flung into the tent, her eyes flash¬ 
ing, ablaze with temper. 

“ What has happened? ” asked Joyce, now 
thoroughly wide-awake. 

“That Trowbridge girl!” began Patricia, 
almost stamping her foot. 

“ No—no! ” protested Sally in mock alarm. 
“You mustn’t.” 

“ Mustn’t what? ” demanded Patricia im¬ 
periously. 

“ My name is Miss Trowbridge.” Sally’s 
mimicry was perfect. 

Patricia glared for an instant, and then sub¬ 
sided into helpless laughter. 


“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 87 

“ That’s just exactly the way she talks,” she 
admitted. “ Gwendolyn called me over after 
lunch and introduced me. As it happens I 
know pretty well who Helen Trowbridge is— 
her family and so on, though I’ve never met 
her; in fact, I’ve never cared to meet her in 

New York; but-” Patricia hesitated and 

blushed. “ Well, I learned a thing or two 
about snobs in Westcott; and now”—she 
giggled a little at the humor of the situation— 
“ now I thought that I’d prove to myself that 
I’d really learned my lesson; so, I held out my 
hand as friendly as I knew how, and said, 

‘ Hello, Helen, I-’ But I didn’t get any 

farther. She ignored the hand, and as Sally 
repeated just now, she said, ‘ My name is Miss 
Trowbridge.’ ” 

“Patricia!” Joyce shrieked with laughter. 
“ What did you do? ” 

Patricia blushed a little. 

“ I lost my temper, of course. I said, ‘ Very 
well, Miss Trowbridge, I am Patricia Strick¬ 
land/ ” 

“ That subdued her, didn’t it? What did she 
do?” 




88 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“Subdue her!” Patricia flared again. 
“ Indeed it did not, She smiled that superior 
smile of hers, and said: 4 You Westerners are 
too funny. No doubt Patricia Strickland is 
a name to inspire awe in the little town where 
you live.’ ” 

“ Oh! Oh! ” gasped Joyce. 

“ I was so angry, I couldn’t speak for a min¬ 
ute. Then just as I did get my breath and was 
about to make some scathing remark about 
New York not being exactly a small town, 
Gwendolyn interfered in that languid way of 
hers. 

44 4 How large is Westcott? ’ she asked. 4 Is 
it a suburb of Minneapolis? ’ 

44 4 About as much a suburb of Minneapolis 
as Pearsonville is of Philadelphia,’ I snapped, 
and walked off. I promised Grandma Par¬ 
sons I wouldn’t let my temper get ahead of 
me once this summer, but I foresee a difficult 
summer with Helen Trowbridge here.” 

Sally shook her bobbed chestnut hair. 

44 The only reason I’ve ever wished I had 
red hair is because red-headed people always 
have such magnificent tempers.” 


“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 


89 


Patricia whirled on her, but Sally’s smile 
was disarming. 

“ Really, I mean that,” she said. 

“ You Southerners are generally peppery, 
anyway, red-, black-, or yellow-headed.” 

“ And I have neither red, black, nor yellow. 
I suspect I have a good bit of temper, though, 
at that. Dear Dr. Orcutt hasn’t a bit, and 
he’s quite Southern—oh, quite. Grandmother 
is even more Southern, and she has no temper 
at all. She’s a dear. You girls would love her. 
Maybe she’ll come Guest Week. Oh, if she 
only would! ” 

“ I hope she will. Mother and Dad will be 
at Gulliver Lodge part of the summer. I’m 
not sure whether they’ll be here or in New 
York that last week, though.” 

“You really are from New York, then? ” 

“ Of course. Where did you think I lived? ” 

“ Why, Minnesota. What’s the name of the 
town? ” 

“ Westcott,” said Joyce. “ That’s where I 
live.” 

“ And where I’ve been visiting all winter, 
but I really live in New York.” 



90 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Patricia named an address that made Sally’s 
eyes fly open. 

“ What a joke on Helen Trowbridge,” said 
Sally. 

“ What do you mean? ” asked Patricia. 

“ If I were you,” Sally stopped to chuckle, 
“ I’d keep my ancestry and home site a deep, 
dark secret. Think of Helen Trowbridge’s 
chagrin when she discovers the truth.” 

“ Perhaps I will,” said Patricia. 

“ It would be easy,” said Sally; “ every one 
here—the girls I mean—thinks you and Joyce 
both come from Westcott.” 

“ I registered from there.” 

“ Let’s keep it a secret,” said Joyce. 

“Do!” urged Sally. 

“ All right, we will,” agreed Patricia. 

“My goodness!” Sally glanced at her 
watch. “ Only half an hour left for your nap, 
Joyce. You’ll have to sleep fast. I wonder 
where Gwendolyn is.” 

“ She and Helen Trowbridge were to¬ 
gether.” 

“ If the authorities find she’s not in her own 
tent during Rest Hour, we’ll get another black 



“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 91 


mark. And we’ve already had two to-day. 
O dear! ” 

But fortunately for Sally’s happiness, 
Gwendolyn was not discovered out of her tent. 
Joyce abandoned all attempts at a nap, and 
started a letter home. Patricia picked up a 
book and began to read. At two o’clock there 
was a single, short, sharp whistle from the head 
tent. Sally jumped to her feet. 

“ Ta-ta! ” She waved from the tent door, 
and started off at a brisk pace. 

“Where do you suppose she goes?” 

Joyce was consumed with curiosity. 

“ I don’t know. Up to the farm, maybe.” 
“ Farm? Is there a farm near here? ” 

“ Of course, goosie. Haven’t you seen it? ” 
Joyce shook her head. 

“ Over the hill a way. Where did you think 
we got all our lovely fresh milk and cream? ” 

“ I didn’t think,” admitted Joyce; then sud¬ 
denly referred to her former topic. “ But 
what would Sally go up to the farm for? ” 

“ Gracious,” said Patricia who was inter¬ 
ested in her story, “ I don’t know. And what 
possible difference does it make? ” 


92 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Oh, she’s so mysterious.” Joyce grinned a 
little. “ One always thinks she’s into mischief, 
whether she is or not.” 

But Sally’s secret was still safe when she 
came rushing back to the tent at two-tliirty. 
She was dusty, hot, and out of breath. 

“ Whistle blow yet? ” she demanded. 

“ Not yet. There it goes now.” 

“ Well, I’m glad we’re going horseback rid¬ 
ing. No one will notice if I am dusty.” 

Evidently the day was too warm for most 
of the girls, for only five signed up for riding, 
two besides Joyce, Patricia, and Sally. Both 
of these girls were pleasant but uninteresting. 
The road was rough underfoot, but exceed¬ 
ingly beautiful overhead. Huge trees trailed 
branches to form an arch of green. Grove 
after grove of pine-trees, standing as straight 
as sentinels, were passed. The horses trotted 
easily along. 

“Ho!” Patricia called to Joyce. “Race 
you to the next bend in the road.” 

“ Me, too! Me, too! ” begged Sally. 

Without a word to Patricia, Joyce let out a 
wild “ Halloo,” clipped her horse with a short 


“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 93 

switch, and was off down the road like a flash. 
Patricia and Sally raced after her, their horses 
kicking up a cloud of dust. But they could not 
catch her. 

Joyce glanced back over her shoulder. 

“ So,” she teased, “ fair enough. You two 
may be far and away the best swimmers, but 
I am the best rider.” 

Sally instantly reined in her horse, a queer 
expression on her face. Patricia slowed her 
horse, also. Joyce dashed on out of sight 
around the bend. 

“ What’s wrong? ” asked Patricia. 

Sally shook her head. 

“ I don’t like what she just said.” 

Patricia became instantly scornful. 

“ You mean you are angry because Joyce 
chose to brag a bit? Well, she is the best rider 
of any of us, and if you think-” 

Sally chuckled. 

“ No, oh, no. Not that. You’re all twisted.” 

Patricia felt relieved. “ What is it, then? ” 

“ ‘ Pride goeth before a fall,’ ” quoted Sally. 

It was Patricia’s turn to laugh, but her 
laugh was cut short. As she and Sally rounded 



94 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


the bend, they both gasped. At one side of the 
road, cropping the grass, was Joyce’s horse— 
riderless. Not ten feet from him, her head 
dangerously near a big boulder, lay Joyce, her 
eyes shut. Both girls scrambled from their 
horses and rushed to her side. Patricia took 
Joyce’s head gently in her lap. Sally bent over 
her, tested her pulse, made sure that her clothes 
were loose and comfortable; then she ran back 
to the bend and motioned for the other two 
girls and the riding instructor to hurry. She 
paused to listen a moment, heard a brook 
gurgling near by, and dashed into the under¬ 
brush in search of it. When she returned with 
her handkerchief soaked in cool water, she 
found Joyce sitting up, endeavoring to smile. 

44 What happened? ” asked Sally. “ Did 
you just—fall off ? ” 

Joyce looked up at Miss Henley who had 
dismounted from her horse and was kneeling 
by Joyce. 

“ Does our tent get a black mark for this? ” 
she asked. 

“ Gracious, no. But how did you come to 
fall off? ” 



“ PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL ” 


95 


“ Yes,” chimed in Sally. “What hap¬ 
pened? ” 

“ Well,” Joyce explained, “ I had just fin¬ 
ished boasting what a splendid rider I was. I 
was looking over my shoulder at you two girls, 
so of course I didn’t see the jack-rabbit that 
jumped across the road.” 

“ Ah-ha,” said Sally, “ you didn’t see it, but 
the horse did.” 

“ Precisely; and he shied, and I was not ex¬ 
pecting it—and here I am.” 

“ ‘ Another redskin bit the dust.’ ” Sally 
pantomimed an Indian fighter. 

“ I may be sunburned,” retorted Joyce, 
“ but this is no place to remind me of it.” 

Miss Henley smiled. 

“ Apparently you are not hurt to any ex¬ 
tent. Do you think you can ride back to 
camp? ” 

Joyce rose slowly, leaning on Patricia. 

“ Yes, I’m sure I can.” 

“ Good girl! ” ejaculated Sally. 

“ If you can’t, I’ll walk back with you,” of¬ 
fered Patricia. 

Joyce smiled at her. 


96 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“No, really, I’m all right.” She flexed both 
arms, bent her knees. “ Just the wind knocked 
out of me, I guess.” 

“ All right. Every one back to her horse. 
We’ll all return to camp,” ordered Miss Hen¬ 
ley. 

The girls rode along, rather sobered by the 
slight accident. Just as they reached the edge 
of camp, Sally drew a deep sigh. 

“ Whatever is wrong, Sally? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ Well, I’m sorry Joyce was hurt, but I’m 
glad it worked out once.” 

“ What worked out once? ” Joyce was mys¬ 
tified. 

“ ‘ Pride goeth before a fall,’ ” said Sally. 
“ Generally my superstitions fail.” 

The shout of laughter that followed this re¬ 
mark brought several girls from camp to hear 
all about Joyce’s fall. 


CHAPTER VII 


CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 

Joyce was none the worse for her fall. She 
rested the remainder of the afternoon so that 
she would be able to join the girls at camp-fire. 

“ I’m so glad you don’t have to miss camp¬ 
fire,” said Sally, who had come into the hos¬ 
pital tent to see Joyce. “ I think we are going 
to form our clubs to-night.” 

“Clubs? What do you mean?” asked 
Joyce. 

“ Don’t you know? We form clubs of eight 
girls each to do camp-fire stunts. We do other 
things, too. Sometimes we put on plays. We 
try to see who can do the best. Sometimes a 
club is allowed to go off on a picnic, or a canoe 
trip—with chaperones. They’re jolly.” 

“ The clubs, the canoe trips, or the chap¬ 
erones? ” asked Joyce. 

“ All of them,” said Sally. “ You’ve no idea 

how much fun an over-night canoe trip is.” 

97 


98 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ I do hope we can belong to the same club,” 
said Joyce. 

But she was disappointed. 

When the girls had all assembled for camp¬ 
fire, Miss McGinnery arose. 

“ For the benefit of those who have not been ^ 
here before and do not understand the ways of 
the camp, I am going to explain about our 
clubs.” 

A few of the girls, who had been in camp 
the previous summer, clapped. Miss McGin¬ 
nery smiled at them, and continued: 

“ There are just thirty-two girls here this 
summer. That means four clubs of eight girls 
each. These clubs each select a leader and a 
name. Also each club may have a banner and 
a song. Then each club has charge of one 
evening entertainment. Each club has a week 
to prepare and produce its 4 stunt/ At the 
end of the fourth week, a committee decides 
which club has proved the most entertaining. 
The one that wins flies its flag on the flag¬ 
pole all Guest Week, just below the Stars and 
Stripes. Moreover, it is given the honor 
of putting on its 4 stunt ’ for Guest Week. 


CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 99 

Now, I will read off the names of those in 
the clubs, and then each club shall withdraw 
and select its leader.” 

When the division was made, it was discov¬ 
ered that Joyce was in Club One, Sally in Club 
Two, Patricia and Gwendolyn in Club Three, 
and Helen Trowbridge in Club Four. Each 
club formed a close group and, with much dis¬ 
cussion and a good deal of laughter, elected a 
leader. Then the general group assembled 
once more near the camp-fire. 

Miss McGinnery smiled. “ Now, each 
leader is to arise, give the name of her club, 
and if a motto has been selected, to announce 
that.” 

Joyce, much to her own surprise, had been 
elected leader of Club One. 

“ We are ‘ The Gypsies,’ ” she announced. 
“ Our banner is to be a red bandana handker¬ 
chief—I hope somebody has one—and our 
motto is 4 Slumber on, my little Gypsy sweet¬ 
heart ’—to be sung always at first bugle for 
rising in the morning.” 

She sat down amid laughter and applause. 

Then Sally jumped up. She had been in 


* » 

> » i 

> » 
i > * 

9 a > 



100 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


camp the year before, and her election as leader 
of Club Two was no surprise to any one, not 
even to Sally. 

“We are the ‘ Dumb Belles,’ ” she an¬ 
nounced with a giggle. “ And be sure you 
spell that belle with a final ‘ e,’ or we’ll wring 
your necks.” 

“ Sally!” protested Miss McGinnery. 

Sally smiled her impish smile. 

“ Are you objecting to the sentiment—or the 
pun? ” she asked. 

“ Both,” replied Miss McGinnery, who had 
grown to know and to love Sally, and who was 
never able to withstand her cajolery. “ What 
is your motto? And banner? I don’t see how 
Dumb Belles can have a banner.” 

“ Well, our banner really should be a huge 
wooden dumb-bell, but unless I can find one 
within a hundred miles of here, we’ll just have 
to make a banner to represent a dumb-bell. 
As to our motto, we had quite a time deciding. 
We thought first of ‘ Beautiful but Dumb.’ ” 
She looked around. “ But it didn’t fit most of 
us—at least the 4 Beautiful ’ part didn’t, so 
we finally decided on * Do a Dumb Thing 



CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 


101 


Daily/ Which,” she added, “ should be fairly 
easy to live up to.” 

Patricia arose next. Even from one day in 
camp, her leadership had been evident. And 
in camp costume, her charm and grace were 
very apparent. 

“ We are the Swallows,” she said, and sat 
down. 

There was a moment’s silence, then every 
one burst forth into laughter. 

“ What kind of a‘ swallow ’ do you mean? ” 
asked Miss McGinnery. 

Patricia smiled. 

“ We’ll leave that to you to decide,” she said, 
smiling at the other Swallows. 

“ Have you a motto? ” 

“We did think of ‘Follow the Swallow/ 
but we don’t like to assume too much at the 
beginning.” Again she smiled. 

“ Well,” said Miss McGinnery, “ it remains 
to be seen whether we’ll follow or lead the swal¬ 
lows. All right, Club Four.” 

Helen Trowbridge stood up, and shook out 
her skirt as daintily as though it had been made 
of the sheerest linen. 


102 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Do you suppose she poses in her sleep? ” 
Sally asked, under her breath, of Joyce. 

But Joyce had no opportunity to answer. 

“ Club Number Four,” said Helen Trow- 
bridge, “ has very kindly elected me leader. 
We thought Primrose would be an attractive 
name. I’m not sure that primroses grow 
around here, but perhaps we may be able to 
find some.” She looked up archly. 

“And your motto?” asked Miss McGin- 
nery. 

Sally Orcutt interrupted with a giggle. 

“ ‘ A primrose by the river’s brim, 

A yellow primrose was to him 99 

she quoted, and added in a low tone—“ ‘ And 
it was nothing more.’ ” 

“ Sally,” reproved Miss McGinnery, “ you’re 
incorrigible to-night.” 

Sally jumped up and bowed. 

“ Thanks for that ‘ To-night,’ ” she said. 

Miss McGinnery turned again to Helen 
Trowbridge. 

“ What did you say you had chosen for a 
motto? ” 


CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 


103 


Greatly provoked, Helen Trowbridge gazed 
around. In an icy voice she replied: “ We 
haven’t decided on anything definite. All we 
had thought of was, ‘ As prim as a primrose.’ ” 

“ Or, ‘ As wild as a wild rose,’ ” said Sally, 
but she dared not say it aloud. 

“ Noav that we have the names and leaders 
decided, we will draw for our weeks. Or shall 
we let Club Four, the Primroses, start; then 
Club Three come next, and so on? ” 

So it was finally decided. Helen Trow¬ 
bridge and her Primroses were to provide the 
entertainment for the first “ stunt.” 

“ And now,” said Miss McGinnery, “ the 
stars are becoming visible. If we move away 
from this bright camp-fire a bit, we can see 
them quite clearly. We can have our songs 
later. I’d like to see how many of you know 
anything about astronomy.” 

“ I know how to find the North Star,” 
volunteered Sally, gaily. 

“ After all these years!” moaned Miss 
McGinnery, in mock reproach. “ Are you 
sure of that, Sally? ” 

“ Yes,” she answered glibly; “ you find the 


104 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


big dipper, and the bright star in line with the 
two stars forming the right hand side of the 
dipper is the North Star.” 

“ How did you ever happen to remember 
that? ” teased Miss McGinnery. 

“ Oh, I expect to go looking for the North 
Pole, some day,” said Sally gaily, “ and I want 
to know it when I reach it.” 

Miss McGinnery was very much interested 
in stars, and for that matter, Sally knew a 
great deal more about them than she admitted. 

“ See that group over there,” Miss McGin¬ 
nery pointed, “ a cluster of five stars. Use 
your imagination a bit, and you will see that 
it looks like a chair, possibly a rocking-chair. 
That is called Cassiopeia’s Chair, or sometimes, 
Cassiopeia, the Lady in the Chair.” 

The girls all looked eagerly. 

“ Directly south of Cassiopeia is her daugh¬ 
ter Andromeda. Cepheus, a fabulous king of 
Ethiopia—who, by the way, has a constella¬ 
tion named after him over yonder near Cyg- 
nus-” 

“ Quite the whole family,” said Sally. 

“ Yes, all except the son-in-law Perseus, 



CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 


105 


As I was about to say, Cassiopeia’s daughter, 
according to legend, was offered as a sacrifice 
to a terrible sea-monster in order to avoid 
threatened disaster. However, the tale ends 
happily, for Perseus rescued her, and married 
her—that same Perseus who killed the Gorgon 
Medusa. No doubt you have all heard of him. 
His constellation is over there, on one side of 
his wife Andromeda. Pegasus is on the other 
side.” 

“ Now we certainly have the whole family,” 
said Sally, “ even the horse.” 

“ What is an Andromedid? ” asked Joyce 
eagerly. “ Is it any relation to Andromeda? ” 

“ In November, the earth is in a part of the 
heavens where there are many meteor showers. 
Near the twenty-fourth of November, if you 
watch the heavens closely, you can almost al¬ 
ways see what is known as 4 falling stars.’ 
These meteor showers seem to radiate from 
Andromeda; hence they are called Androme- 
dids” 

“ Knowledge certainly does spoil a great 
many pretty fancies, doesn’t it? ” said Sally. 

“ What now? ” asked Miss McGinnery. 


106 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Oh, somehow, when I see a shooting or 
falling star, I always think of that bit of a 
poem—I haven’t the slightest idea who wrote 
it—but it is about a sentry who was pacing his 
lonely walk. Just as he is relieved, he sees a 
shooting star, and it occurs to him that per¬ 
haps on earth some lonely sentry has just been 
released, too. It’s an old superstition, isn’t it, 
that a shooting star is the sign of a passing 
soul? ” 

There was silence for a long moment, Miss 
McGinnery gazing far away, almost beyond 
the stars. Suddenly she seemed to recall what 
Sally was saying. She sighed. 

“ Yes, yes. I suppose so. Now over there 
is the constellation known as the Pleiades, 
more commonly called the ‘ Seven Sisters.’ 
Only six, however, are visible. The seventh 
conceals herself from the shame of having 
loved a mortal. She is called the ‘ Lost 
Pleiad.’ Her name is either Merope or Elec- 
tra—some say one, some the other.” 

“ I know the other five names,” said Sally 
glibly. “ Let me say them. They are Alcyone, 
Celaeno, Electra, Maia, Merope, Sterope or 


CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 


107 


Asterope, and Taygeta. Isn’t that like a song 
—an old heathen song of some sort? ” 

“ Then, of course, there are Ursa Major and 
Ursa Minor—the Great Bear and the Little 
Bear, the Indians called them. To-day, the 
most common name is the Big Dipper and the 
Little Dipper. No one ever has trouble find¬ 
ing them.” 

“ I didn’t know stars could be made so in¬ 
teresting,” said Patricia. 

“ Oh, we haven’t even begun,” said Miss 
McGinnery, “ and every group or constellation 
has a history or legend of some sort, either 
Greek or Indian—sometimes both.” 

“ The one I like best of all,” said Sally, “ is 
the old idea, Greek or Egyptian, or whatever 
it was, that two huge dragons regularly de¬ 
voured the moon. When they were satisfied, 
they went off somewhere and slept until the 
moon was full again; then they came and ate 
it, just like a mouse would eat up a hunk of 
green cheese.” 

“ Delightful! ” said Patricia. 

“ And best of all, not being able to account 
for the earth staying in the air, they said that 



108 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

a huge elephant held it on his back. Some wise 
person asked on what the elephant stood. The 
Greeks explained very carefully that the ele¬ 
phant stood on the back of a huge tortoise. 
And there the matter rested. Upon what the 
tortoise stood, no one knew.” 

“ Oh,” said Sally, “ there are just loads and 
loads of stories as interesting as these.” 

“ But this is all for this evening,” said Miss 
McGinnery. 

Sally ran over and threw a log on the camp¬ 
fire. 

“ Come on, let’s sing.” 

“ Oh, Sally,” begged one of the girls, “ do 
tell us a ghost story.” 

Sally looked at Miss McGinnery. 

44 May I? I know a new one.” 

Miss McGinnery hesitated. 

“ Please,” begged several of the girls. 

Miss McGinnery laughed. 

44 Let’s have our songs first, and then if it 
isn’t too late, perhaps we can have just one.” 

Gathered in a group around the camp-fire, 
the girls sang in unison. It was a bit difficult 
at first to find songs that every one knew, but 


CAMP-FIRE CLUBS 


109 


little by little, suggestions were made, and soon 
a full chorus was singing. As usual, Patricia’s 
voice easily led the rest. 

Then came a lull, and again the request: 

“ Your ghost story now, Sally, please! ” 

“ All right,” Miss McGinnery nodded. 

In a low, solemn voice, Sally began. 


CHAPTER VIII 


GHOSTS 

“ Down by my home in Louisville is an old 
plantation. On it is a big old rambling house 
that everybody says is ‘ hanted.’ The niggers 
won’t go past it at night. One old Mammy 
says there always were the funniest noises and 
lights around there that nobody could under¬ 
stand. I grew terribly curious about the place, 
but I can tell you, I didn’t go near it after 
dark. 

“ One night, though, I found I had to go 
past it. My knees were knocking against each 
other, but I went along slowly—slowly and 
quietly. I was almost past, when a long arm 
reached out—and grabbed me! 

“ I was too frightened to scream. That arm 
drew me right in through the hedge. In a 
minute, I stood face to face with the owner of 
that arm. She was a beautiful girl. I was 
so surprised, I just stood and looked. 

Who are you? ’ I asked. 

110 


GHOSTS 


111 


“ 4 Ssh! ’ she said, and looked around her on 
all sides. 

“ I looked around, too. We were in a gar¬ 
den, but it was not an orderly garden; weeds 
and disorder were everywhere. Not so far 
from us was a driveway that led to the house. 
Even as I looked at the deserted house, a light 
flashed in one window, disappeared, flashed in 
another window, and went out. I turned to 
run, but again that long arm caught me. 

“ 4 Come/ whispered the girl. 

“ ‘No/ I said, struggling to free myself, 4 I 
don’t want to go with you/ 

“ 4 Come,’ she said. I looked at her, and I 
noticed I could see a tree right through her. 

44 4 You’re a ghost/ I said. 

44 4 Ssh! Come with me/ 

44 Shivering, I went. 

44 Half-way up the drive, she stopped and 
pointed. At my feet lay a dagger, a bloody 
dagger. I drew back. 

4 4 4 Pick it up/ she whispered. 

44 4 No/ I said. 4 No/ 

4 4 4 Pick it up/ she repeated. 

44 1 did so. 


112 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ On the steps of the wide verandah, we 
paused again, and again she pointed. There 
lay a money bag, well filled. 

“ ‘ Pick it up,’ she said again. 

“ This time I didn’t object. 

“ While I was stooping for the bag, the big 
front door swung open, very mysteriously, 
creaking as it went. 

“ ‘ Enter,’ commanded the girl at my side. 

“ ‘ No! Never! ’ I protested. 

“ ‘ Follow me,’ she said. 

“ She went on ahead. I looked around for 
a way to escape, and from the other side of 
the door came her voice: 

“ ‘ There is no escape. Follow me! 9 

“ I went in, still carrying the bloody dagger 
and the money bag. This girl led me to a 
lovely room. Beautiful tapestries hung on all 
the walls, thick red carpets lay on the floor. A 
low light burned in one corner of the room. 
The light was red, too. Exhausted, I sank 
into a big chair. As I did so, all the lights in 
the place flashed on. 

Now I must go, 9 said the girl. And she 
walked away, straight through a wall. 


GHOSTS 


113 


“ I sat there shivering and shivering and 
shivering. 

“ ‘ At least, I’m glad the l-lights are on,’ I 
said aloud, trying to keep up my courage. 

“ At that instant all the lights went out. I 
was in utter darkness. Then a low voice be¬ 
hind me said: 

“ ‘ Now—I’ve—got—YOU! ’ ” 

With the last word, which she shouted 
loudly, Sally made a dive and caught a girl 
near her. With a series of shrieks and giggles, 
the girls about the camp-fire scattered. 

“ What happened after that? ” Gwendolyn 
the literal-minded was not satisfied with this 
trick ending, thrilling though it was. 

“ Oh,” Sally giggled, “ the house flew away.” 

There was a general uproar of laughter 
which Miss McGinnery was unable to quiet for 
some minutes. 

“ That’s all to-night, girls. It’s bedtime.” 

With her usual alacrity, Sally was the first 

in her tent to dive into the blankets. 

% 

“ Was that really all there was to that 
story? ” Joyce asked, as she snuggled down be¬ 
tween her blankets. 



114< PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ That’s all there was to that one,” said 
Sally. 

“Did you read it, or make it up?” asked 
Patricia. 

“You insult me,” said Sally, “ but to be 
honest, I read it.” 

“ I thought as much,” sniffed Gwendolyn. 

“ But you would never recognize it,” con¬ 
tinued Sally. “ The one in the book was all 
mixed up with love and a lot of nonsense like 
that.” 

“ Is love nonsense? ” asked Joyce in a sleepy 
voice. 

“ How do I know? ” protested Sally. 

“ I know.” 

Every one looked in surprise at Gwendolyn, 
who smiled self-consciously. 

“ All right, tell us about it,” challenged 
Sally. 

“ Oh, it’s wonderful,” Gwendolyn sighed. 

Sally giggled. “ That certainly enlightens 
me marvelously.” 

Gwendolyn turned on Sally savagely. “ Of 
course you wouldn’t know anything about— 
anything.” 


GHOSTS 


115 


“No,” said Sally, “ I wouldn’t. I’m much 
too young.” 

“ I didn’t mean that.” Gwendolyn was in 
a sulk. 

“ No? ” Sally was aggravating. “ Then 
just what did you mean? ” 

“ I meant that—well, that—a lot of the girls 
think you can’t pay your own way here, and 
that you are just working your way to be here. 
All these mysterious afternoon disappearances 
look—queer.” 

Sally stared at Gwendolyn open-mouthed 
for a second, then she ducked her head into her 
pillow, and her body shook convulsively. 

In a flash, Joyce was off her cot, and on her 
knees beside Sally. 

“ Don’t cry, Sally dear, please. We don’t 
think that—and we wouldn’t care, anyway.” 

Sally turned and flung an arm around 
Joyce. 

“ Oh, oh, oh,” she gulped, trying to stop 
her laughter. “ Oh, I must stop. Joyce, you 
are a dear. I knew you’d stand by me. I 

never had anything strike me so funny-” 

She was off again in a fit of mirth. “ And I 



116 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


mustn’t let them hear me, up at the big tent. 
It’s time for the silence bugle.” 

Surprised and relieved, Joyce went back to 
her cot. Patricia was smiling to herself. 
Gwendolyn sulkily climbed into bed. 

“ You’ll have to roll the tent sides to-night,” 
Joyce teased Patricia. “ You’re the slow¬ 
poke.” 

A minute later, the final bugle was blown, 
and silence settled on the camp; but it did not 
stay settled. 

Before any of the girls really fell asleep, 
Gwendolyn sat up in bed. 

“ What’s that? ” she whispered. 

“Hush!” Sally was furious. “ It means a 
whole row of black marks if we talk after final 
bugle.” 

“ I know,” pleaded Gwendolyn, “ but lis¬ 
ten -” 

From the woods a little to the left of the 
camp came a low moan. 

Joyce sat up suddenly, too. 

“ Do you suppose any one’s out there— 
hurt? ” 

“ Please hush,” protested Sally. 



GHOSTS 


117 


“ But listen.” Patricia sat up, too. 

Again that low moan, almost a sob. 

“ It’s—it’s ghosts,” said Gwendolyn. 

“ Nonsense! ” Sally’s heart was not as stout 
as her voice. 

“ But it howls just like a banshee. Do you 
suppose one of us is going to die? ” Gwendo¬ 
lyn was shivering. 

“ Don’t be absurd.” Sally was trying to 
bolster up her own courage. 

“ What—what did the ghost that you saw 
look like? ” 

“ Oh, Gwendolyn, I never saw one—and I’ll 
never tell another ghost story, either.” 

“ Do listen! ” said Patricia. 

Again that low moan. 

“ Something or some one is out there—hurt,” 
said Joyce. “ I’m going to see.” 

“ Don’t,” said Patricia. “ That would be 
foolish.” 

“ I tell you,” said Sally who was a little 
frightened herself by this time, “ Joyce and 
I will go to the big tent and get Miss McGin- 
nery. Maybe she- Oh! ” 

Sally paused and pointed. Something tall 




118 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

and dark was creeping stealthily through the 
woods. There was a silence while the girls 
sat tense—then a blinding flash, a report, sud¬ 
den darkness. 

After which a voice called clearly: 

“ Don’t be alarmed, girls. Sorry to disturb 
you, but it was a splendid chance for a flash¬ 
light of that hoot-owl.” 

“ Oh, Miss McGinnery,” cried Sally, relief 
in her voice, “ is that you? ” 

“ Yes. Did I frighten you? ” 

“ Nearly to death.” 

Miss McGinnery came to the tent. 

“ I know I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t 
think any one would be asleep. Bugle had just 
blown. I’ve been trying so long to get a pic¬ 
ture of that owl. I tried all last summer, and 
never once had as good a chance as this one. 
I’ll see that you do not get any marks for 
breaking silence.” 

“ All right,” said Sally. “ ‘ All’s well that 
ends well,’ but I certainly thought I was see¬ 
ing a real live ghost that time.” 

Ten minutes later, every one in the tent was 
sound asleep. 



CHAPTER IX 


“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 

“ Slumber off , my little Gypsy sweetheart/* 
Sally caroled, as she dripped a handful of 
water over Joyce’s face. 

Joyce sat up, startled. “What’s the mat¬ 
ter? Where am I? Who-” 

“Whoa!” said Sally, laughing. “You’ve 
overslept, and unless you hurry, we’ll have an¬ 
other black mark.” 

Joyce sprang to her feet. “ Where are the 
others? ” 

“ Dressed and out.” 

“ Even Gwendolyn? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Even Gwendolyn,” replied Sally. 

Joyce flushed. “ Oh, I didn’t mean it that 
way.” 

Sally laughed merrily. “All right; but do 
hurry.” 

It was almost the end of the first week of 

camp; a busy week it had been, too, with bird 

119 



120 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


hunting, swimming, horseback-riding, and all 
the other various camp activities. 

Neither Joyce nor Patricia had done much 
towards their bird collections, but Sally had 
been most industrious with her camera. 

“ Look at this vireo’s deserted nest. Wasn’t 
I lucky to find it? ” She displayed an empty 
nest to her three tent mates. 

“ That’s only a robin’s nest,” said Gwen¬ 
dolyn. 

Sally whirled. “ What do you know about 
it?” 

“ I have always been interested in birds, as 
you will see if you trouble to look at my col¬ 
lection. It is far superior to yours and to every 
one’s in camp.” 

“ Oh,” said Sally, for once too taken back 
to say anything else. 

“ Where is your collection? ” asked Patricia, 
interested. 

“ Helen Trowbridge and I are doing ours 
together. Undoubtedly, it will be the finest in 
camp.” 

“ Nevertheless, this is a vireo’s nest.” 

“ You’re wrong,” said Gwendolyn in a cold 


“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


121 


fury. “ I don’t often call names, but some¬ 
times you’re a regular fool, Sally. That’s a 
robin’s nest. I know I’m absolutely right— 
and nothing you can say or do will change me.” 

Both Patricia and Joyce gasped as they 
looked at Sally. For a minute temper flashed 
in Sally’s eyes, and then laughter suddenly got 
the best of her. 

“ Every time I hear the word ‘ fool,’ Gwen¬ 
dolyn, it makes me think of a song one of the 
niggers down home sings.” 

“ Indeed! ” Gwendolyn would not deign to 
ask about the song, although she was consumed 
with curiosity. 

“ What song is it, Sally? ” asked Joyce, glad 
that the slight quarrel had taken this turn. 

Sally giggled, as she began in perfect imita¬ 
tion of a negro: 

“ You can change a fool, 

But a dog-gone mule 
Is a mule until he dies.” 

She emphasized ever so slightly the word 
“ mule.” 

Gwendolyn left the tent with an angry 
flounce. 


122 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Oh, Sally, you shouldn’t have done it; 
really you shouldn’t,” protested Joyce. 

But Sally was unrepentant. “ It was too 
good an opportunity to miss,” she chuckled. 

At various intervals during the rest of the 
day, Sally burst forth into song: 

“ ‘ A mule until he dies. 5 55 

By afternoon, half the girls in camp were 
humming and singing it, too. 

“ Do you realize,” Joyce asked Patricia, 
“ that this is Thursday, and that the first week 
of camp is almost gone? Hasn’t it been fun? ” 

It was free hour, and Patricia and Joyce 
were alone in the tent. Sally had made her 
usual mysterious disappearance, and Gwen¬ 
dolyn was over with Helen Trowbridge. 

“ I wouldn’t have realized it was Thursday 
only I had a letter from Grandma Parsons.” 

“ Oh, really? What did she say? ” 

“ She said that she had a big surprise for 
us. That it would probably reach here Satur¬ 
day or Sunday.” 

“ Oh, really! Does she say what it is? ” 

“ No.” 


“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


123 


44 Isn’t she tantalizing? ” said Joyce. “ She’s 
almost as mysterious as Sally.” 

“ Where do you suppose Sally goes every 
afternoon? ” asked Patricia. 

Joyce shook her head. 4 4 She has mystified 
you, too, has she? ” 

“ Yes, she has,” admitted Patricia. “ I 
wasn’t interested at first, particularly, but it 
is strange the way she slips out so quietly every 
afternoon.” 

“ I don’t believe she’s doing anything she 
shouldn’t, though,” protested loyal Joyce. 

44 Why does she keep so quiet about it? ” 
puzzled Patricia. 

44 Perhaps, after all, she is earning her way 
through camp, and doesn’t like to admit it.” 

Patricia shook her head. 44 1 don’t think so.” 

44 Then what can she be up to? ” 

44 Maybe,” Patricia smiled as she answered, 
44 she is out looking for a vireo’s nest.” 

Joyce looked surprised. 44 Wasn’t that a 
vireo’s nest she had this morning? ” 

Patricia shook her head. 44 I’m afraid not. 
Gwendolyn was right.” 

44 How do you know? ” asked Joyce. 


124 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ I took it to Miss McGinnery, myself, and 
asked her. She knows all about birds. She 
said it was a robin’s nest. She also said that 
Gwendolyn really had a splendid collection.” 

“ Poor Sally! ” said Joyce. 

While the girls were getting ready for din¬ 
ner that evening, Gwendolyn, with a superior 
smile, turned to Sally. 

“ I find I was right,” she declared. 

“Yes?” asked Sally. “How unusual! 
About what? ” 

“ It was a robin’s nest.” 

“ Oh, yes,” dimpled Sally, “ I discovered 
that, too. I meant to come and tell you.” 

“ What? ” Gwendolyn looked startled. 

“ Surely,” said Sally. “ It’s a lot more fun 
to play the game fair. I was wrong, and I am 
perfectly willing to admit it.” 

“ Game? ” Gwendolyn frowned. “ What 
game is there to that? ” 

Sally gasped, but choked back her laughter. 

“ Well,” she said, “ if you want an actual 
game, I’ll propose one.” 

“Yes? What is it?” 


“ Simply this—that my bird collection will 



“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


125 


be finer and more varied than yours by Guest 
Week.” 

“Impossible!” said Gwendolyn haughtily. 
“ I already have a very fine collection. More¬ 
over, Helen Trowbridge is helping me.” 

“All right,” challenged Sally; “ that gives 
you a head start, and a partner. I am willing 
to take those odds.” 

“ You are only boasting,” said Gwendolyn. 
“You can’t possibly have a collection as good 
as mine.” 

Sally raised her eyebrows, then she began to 
hum in a low voice the now familiar tune: 

“—Is a mule until he dies.” 

Gwendolyn was furious. “ Very well, Miss 
Sally Orcutt, if you can spare the time from 
your other labors and think it possible to com¬ 
pete with me, very well. Only I am assuring 
you that you are wasting your time.” 

“ Thanks for the advice. I intended to go 
ahead, anyhow, but thought perhaps it would 
be fairer to warn you. And while I’m at this 
warning business, I’ll tell you that I shall get 
aid and information from whomever I can.” 


126 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ You have my permission,” said Gwen¬ 
dolyn. 

“ Thanks so much! ” returned Sally. 

“ Girls, do hurry.” Joyce came racing into 
the tent. “ I’ve just heard that the Primroses 
are to have their ‘ stunt ’ to-night instead of 
Saturday night.” 

“Oh, really?” Sally danced around. 
“ Hurrah for the roses, the Primroses, the wild 
Primroses.” 

“ Hurry,” urged Joyce again, as the dinner 
gong rang. 

“ That’s the sweetest sound in camp,” said 
Sally. “ I never need to be urged when the 
dinner gong rings. Come on, Joyce, I’ll race 
you to the dining-hall.” 

After the meal, the girls quickly gathered 
around the camp-fire. There was a great deal 
of commotion and secrecy among those who 
belonged to the Primrose Club. They did not 
appear around the fire with the others. 

“ Shall I light the camp-fire? ” Joyce called 
to Miss McGinnery. 

“ No, not yet.” 

“How queer,” said Sally; “generally we 


“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 127 

have stunts by the light of the fire. I wonder 
what it can be? ” 

Then, slowly down the hill, came a proces¬ 
sion of pink-clad girls, wearing green caps on 
their heads, nodding and swaying. 

“ How pretty,” whispered Joyce. 

“ Where did they get those pink dresses? ” 
wondered Patricia. 

“ Must have sent for them—for the cloth, 
at least. Helen Trowbridge is good at this 
sort of thing.” 

For impromptu methods, the pageant really 
was most effective. Saying no word, many of 
the girls struggling to keep from smiling, the 
Primroses proceeded in stately promenade 
until they had formed a circle around the fire¬ 
wood which had not yet been lighted. Slowly 
they danced, drawing their circle closer and 
closer. Meanwhile, Miss McGinnery read a 
little legend telling how the roses came, 
bloomed, and grew, then died into ashes. At 
this moment, all the girls bowed to the ground 
and threw grey veils over their heads and 
shoulders. Then the legend went on to say 
that though the roses had died, hope still lived, 


128 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


for they were borne away over the waters, and 
with love and life and hope would return again 
in the spring. 

As Miss McGinnery read the words “ over 
the waters,” the Primroses jumped up and ran 
to a barge drawn up on the edge of the lake. 
All eight girls climbed into this, their pink 
dresses fluttering in the evening breeze. The 
barge was pushed out on the lake. Dusk was 
coming now, and the pink dresses were scarcely 
visible. But suddenly around the edge of the 
barge, colored fire shone, and the girls’ voices 
rang clearly into the air, carrying a song. 

“ How pretty! ” Joyce exclaimed again. 

“ Helen certainly has done wonders with her 
‘ stunt,’ ” admitted Patricia. “ We’ll all have 
to work doubly hard to compete.” 

“ I didn’t expect it from Helen,” sighed 
Sally; “ I knew I’d have a hard time against 
you two, but now, with this to compete-” 

Her speech was cut short. 

“ Look! Oh, look! ” she pointed. 

There was a gasp around the camp-fire. 

It was too dark to see clearly what had hap¬ 
pened exactly, but apparently one of the girls 



“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


129 


had gone too close to the colored lights. A 
pink gown burst into sudden flame. There 
was a loud scream, followed by several others. 
Some one on the barge had sense enough to 
push the flaming girl into the lake. There 
was a splash, a call for help. 

“ Come on, quick! ” Sally kicked off her 
shoes, and pulled off her middy. 

Patricia, seeing at a glance the whole situa¬ 
tion, was in the water almost as quickly as 
Sally. Both girls were powerful swimmers 
and reached the barge in a short time. Miss 
McGinnery followed promptly in a boat. 

When they reached the girl in the water, she 
was stroking wildly, floundering, gasping, half- 
crying. The girls on the barge were of no 
help. They were too excited to do anything 
either sensible or helpful. 

Sally took prompt charge of the situation. 

“ Throw water on those lights, or throw 
them overboard. Get rid of them. Make 
room for—why, it’s Helen Trowbridge. Here, 
Patricia, get on the other side of her. We 
can hoist her aboard.” 

It was a hard struggle, but Helen was finally 


130 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


on the barge when Miss McGinnery arrived on 
the scene. 

“ Everything all right? ” she asked. 

“ I guess so,” said Patricia, panting from 
exertion. 

“ No, it isn’t,” sobbed Helen Trowbridge 
wildly; “ I’m burned. I’m drowned. I want 
to go home.” 

“ You’re all right,” consoled Sally. “ Just 
keep your nerve.” 

“No! no!” Helen’s cries were growing 
louder and wilder. “ Let me out of here. I’m 
drowned. I want to go home.” 

“ I’ll take her in here.” Miss McGinnery 
took command of the situation. 

“ No—no! ” screamed Helen. “ I won’t go 
in there.” 

“ A bit hysterical,” said Miss McGinnery, 
in a low voice to the other girls. “ Come, 
Helen.” 

She put out her hand. 

Helen hit at it. “No. I won’t go! ” 

Miss McGinnery’s face went white. 

“ Get into that boat! ” she said in a tone of 
sharp command. 



“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


131 


To every one’s relief and surprise, Helen 
obeyed meekly. 

“ Shall I come, too? ” offered Sally. 

“No, I can manage her better alone. You 
two get the barge and the other girls back to 
shore.” 

By the time they all arrived on the shore, 
several of the camp authorities were on the 
scene. 

Helen, bedraggled, a big hole burned in her 
dress, meekly allowed herself to be led to the 
Hospital Tent. 

“ Do you think she was hurt? ” Joyce asked 
Sally and Patricia, when the excitement had 
quieted down and the girls were once more 
back in their tent. 

“ Scared! ” said Sally. 

“ Indeed! ” Gwendolyn spoke up, haughtily; 
“ if you had the delicate nervous constitution 
that Helen Trowbridge has, you would ap¬ 
preciate what a shock she has had.” 

“ Perhaps I should,” said Sally, generously, 
“ but I’m mighty glad I haven’t that constitu¬ 
tion.” 

“ Or disposition,” added Patricia, who had 


132 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


been thoroughly disgusted with Helen’s 
actions, and with a touch of her old regal man¬ 
ner was making no secret of her opinion. 

“Disposition!” snapped Gwendolyn; 
“ Helen is the sweetest, dearest, most lovable, 
most attractive, best-mannered girl in camp.” 

“ Aside from that,” said Sally, “ she is per¬ 
fectly normal.” 

“ Of course you know her so well.” Patri¬ 
cia’s haughty manner was growing. 

“ I pride myself I can read character; and 
moreover, I flatter myself that Helen considers 
me her closest friend. Certainly I know her 
much better than you do, Patricia Strickland 
—you or your friends.” 

“ Granted,” said Patricia, “ but you per¬ 
haps have never heard the reputation Miss 
Helen Trowbridge has, of being a snob, a 
spoiled child, a 4 nouveau riche,’ a-” 

“A 4 nouveau riche,’ ” interrupted Gwen¬ 
dolyn. “What’s that?” 

“ If you don’t know,” giggled Sally, “ at 
least you’re not one.” 

44 Besides ” — Gwendolyn was angry at 
Sally’s retort—“ you speak of Helen’s reputa- 



“ A MULE IS A MULE ” 


133 


tion. Where have you ever heard of her be¬ 
fore you came to camp? Certainly not in 
Westcott, Minnesota! ’’ 

Patricia sat erect, her eyes blazing, her 
mouth open for withering speech. Joyce, 
whose remark had precipitated this discussion, 
now interrupted. 

“ Oh, girls, truly I’m sorry. I didn’t mean 
to start anything like this. Let’s not quarrel, 
please. If you are talking of reputations, let 
me tell you one I heard about our tent this 
morning.” 

44 What? ” All three looked at her eagerly, 
glad of this way of avoiding the quarrel so 
nicely started. 

44 1 heard that the authorities consider this 
the prize tent.” She did not add that the 
girl who had told her had also added that 
every one considered Gwendolyn lucky to be 
in with the other three. 

44 So you see,” added Joyce, 44 we can’t afford 
to quarrel over Helen, or any one else. Per¬ 
sonally, I think she did lose her nerve a bit, 
but then I suppose most of us would under 
similar circumstances. And I don’t think 


134 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Patricia and Sally received as much credit as 
they should for their promptness.” 

“You old flatterer!” Patricia smiled at 
Joyce. “ I believe you’ve taken lessons in 
tact from Grandma Parsons.” 

Sally’s only reply was a loud, pretended 
snore. 

Gwendolyn, calmed by the oil Joyce had so 
freely poured on the troubled waters, neverthe¬ 
less sniffed as she went out to roll up the tent 
sides. 


CHAPTER X 


LOST! 

Patricia sat on a rustic bench, looking very 
thoughtful. 

“ Now, what’s the trouble? ” Joyce sat 
down beside her. 

“ I was just thinking about last evening,” 
said Patricia. 

“You mean the accident? You really were 
wonderful, Patricia.” 

“ Oh, no, not that! ” Patricia flushed a lit¬ 
tle. “ I was thinking of the Primrose pag¬ 
eant. Really, you know, it was lovely and very 
well done.” 

“ Yes,” admitted Joyce, “ it was.” 

“ And of course,” continued Patricia, 
“ Helen Trowbridge really planned the whole 
thing.” 

“ I guess she’s all right this morning.” 

“ Yes, I know she is. I went over to see 

her in the Hospital Tent,” said Patricia. “ She 

135 


136 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


wasn’t actually hurt, just frightened. But 
that isn’t what’s bothering me.” 

“ What is then? Grandma Parsons’ sur¬ 
prise? ” 

“ Oh, I’d forgotten all about that.” Pat¬ 
ricia’s smile flashed out. “ I wonder what it 
can be! ” 

“ Something good to eat, no doubt.” Joyce 
smiled, too. “ But what is worrying you, 
Patricia? ” 

“ Can’t you guess? ” 

44 Not in a hundred years.” 

“ Why, I’m Captain of Club Two, the 
Swallows, you know, and it’s our turn to have 
a 4 stunt ’ next week.” 

44 1 see,” said Joyce. 44 Have you any ideas? ” 

44 Oh, I have ideas enough, but none of them 
seems quite right, especially after last night. 
That pageant was truly lovely.” 

44 You might have a pageant of Swallows 
flitting here and there about camp.” Joyce 
giggled. 

Patricia shook her head. She really was 
worried. 

44 Isn’t it queer that the more you think about 


LOST! 137 

a problem the less you are able to solve it? 
And next week will soon be here.” 

Joyce looked rueful. “ I suppose I should 
be worrying about my turn, but somehow, I 
can’t.” 

Patricia looked up quickly. “ I have an 
idea—I wonder—perhaps it would work! It 
certainly is different from Helen Trow¬ 
bridge’s; very different. I wonder! ” 

“ Oh, tell me, Patricia.” Joyce was ex¬ 
cited. 

“ No, I won’t tell you, but I want to see what 
you think of it. I know what I’ll do. If I 
can get permission for us to be absent during 
quiet hour, we can go away from camp a mile 
or so, and then I’ll show you and see what you 
think of it. I’m afraid if we do it here some 
of the girls might see it—or hear it.” 

“ Hear it? ” Joyce was consumed with 
curiosity. “ Oh, do tell me about it, Patricia.” 

But Patricia only laughed and went off to 
obtain permission for her “ private picnic.” 

Permission was granted, and while the other 
girls were preparing to write or read, Patricia 
and Joyce were getting ready to start off. 





138 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Where are you going? ” Sally asked in a 
whisper. 

“ Away.” Patricia smiled provokingly. 

“ That’s definite,” said Sally. 

“ Well, it’s what you do every afternoon, 
and never tell us.” Joyce smiled, too, rather 
enjoying the secret. 

“ But I-” Sally checked suddenly. 

“Almost told you, didn’t I? All right. Trot 
along. But you’ll be sorry you didn’t let me 
know where you were going.” 

As it turned out, Sally’s jesting words 
proved to be the truth. But not knowing this, 
happy and excited, the two girls set out. Not 
until they were at least thirty minutes’ walk 
from camp did Patricia stop. Before them lay 
a small open glade, covered with soft moss, 
surrounded by trees—a miniature forest the¬ 
atre. 

“ Now,” said Patricia, “ this is my idea. 
Tell me honestly what you think of it.” 

It was much later when they returned. 
Joyce was greatly pleased over Patricia’s idea, 
and they were talking and laughing as they 
came into camp. 



LOST! 


139 


“ Oh, you’re just too late.” A girl named 
Alice Redmond ran up to meet them. 

“ Too late? For basket-weaving, you 
mean? ” asked Patricia. “We were excused.” 

“ No—no. Your brother was here.” 

“ My brother! ” exclaimed Patricia. “ Why, 
I haven’t any-” 

“ Raoul! ” interrupted Joyce. 

“ Oh, no.” Patricia’s voice expressed disap¬ 
pointment. 

“ That was Grandma Parsons’ surprise. 
Isn’t that just like her? ” 

“ Was he alone? ” Patricia asked Alice. 

“ Where did he go? ” asked Joyce. 

“ There is Miss McGinnery. Let’s go ask 
her.” 

“ What a shame,” said Miss McGinnery, as 
they ran up to her. “ Mr. Raoul Hunter was 
here. I sent Sally to look for you. Did she 
find you? ” 

“ No, she missed us.” 

“ What did Raoul say? ” asked Joyce. 

“ He was called here on business. Came a 
day earlier so he could stop and say ‘ Hello ? 
to you, but he couldn’t stay.” 



140 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“What a shame!” Joyce was deeply dis¬ 
appointed. 

“ I thought Sally would surely find you,” 
said Miss McGinnery, “ but he left a note be¬ 
hind when he had to go.” 

Eagerly Joyce opened the note. 

“ Too bad, Joy. Thought I’d have the fun 
of seeing you and Patricia and telling you my 
news, but I’ll have to write it. I’ve come up 
here to meet Mr. Strickland at Gulliver Lodge. 
He thinks he has an opening for me in the 
engineering line and has been kind enough 


“Mr. Strickland!” interrupted Patricia. 
“ He must mean Dad. What else does he 
say?” 

Joyce read on hastily. 

“ —kind enough to give me this splendid 
opportunity. I am to spend Sunday with Mr. 
and Mrs. Strickland at the Lodge, and go on 
East Monday. Isn’t it great? 

“ Ray.” 

“ Why, Dad and Mother must be at the 
Lodge, and they never let me know. Of 
all-” 





LOST! 


141 


“ I know,” squealed Joyce, “ they were 
planning to surprise us to-morrow. All three 
of them were coming over to-morrow, and Ray 
thought you knew they were here, and spoiled 
the secret.” 

Patricia looked at Joyce a minute. “ That’s 
just what happened.” Her eyes shone with 
excitement. “And just for that I’m going to 
pay them back in their own coin.” 

“ How? What do you mean? ” 

“ If I can get permission for both of us, and 
I think I can, we’ll get up early to-morrow 
morning, and go over to the Lodge for break¬ 
fast. Then when Mother and Dad and Ray 
come down, all prepared to come over here, 
they’ll find us serenely eating breakfast.” 

“If we only can! What a lark!” Joyce 
danced about. She stopped suddenly. “ How 
can we get over there? ” 

“ We’ll use the Blunder-bus,” said Patricia, 
laughing gaily. 

“ The Blunder-bus! You mean that awful 
old car that is used for camp errands? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“ But, Patricia, can you run it? ” 


142 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Of course,” laughed Patricia. “ I can run 
anything called an automobile.” 

“ But Sally says this isn’t an automobile,” 
giggled Joyce. 

“ No? ” asked Patricia. “ What does she 
call it? ” 

“ She calls it ‘ King Tut’s Chariot.’ ” 

Patricia laughed. 

“ Perhaps we could take Sally with us. I 
know Mother and Dad would enjoy her,” said 
Patricia thoughtfully. “ I believe I’ll ask per¬ 
mission.” 

“We are not sure we can go, ourselves.” 
Joyce was a little dubious. “ I wonder where 
Sally is. She surely should be back by this 
time.” 

No one worried at first about Sally’s dis¬ 
appearance, but when dinner time came and 
Sally had not returned, concern was felt, al¬ 
though only slightly. 

But dinner time came and passed, and still 
there was no sign of Salty. Miss McGinnery 
came to “ Tent Joy,” as Sally had named their 
tent, in honor of Joyce. The three girls were 
in the tent, Joyce and Patricia preparing for 


LOST! 


143 


their early morning start to Gulliver Lodge, 
Gwendolyn looking bored. 

“ You haven’t seen Sally? ” Miss McGin- 
nery tried to keep the worry out of her voice. 

“No.” Joyce sounded as though she, too, 
felt worried. “ What do you suppose can have 
happened to her? ” 

“Humph!” said Gwendolyn in disgust. 
“ Likely she’s looking for a vireo’s nest.” 

The girls laughed in spite of their concern 
for Sally. 

“ She did take her camera,” admitted Miss 
McGinnery, “ but surely she wouldn’t stay all 
this long time. Sally may be heedless and 
irresponsible, but she would never stay away 
intentionally.” 

“ I’m not so sure.” Gwendolyn elevated her 
nose. 

Miss McGinnery looked at her in surprise. 

“ She knows it means a black mark for the 
tent,” said Patricia, “ and she has been very 
anxious to avoid anything of that sort.” 

“ Yes, she has,” admitted Miss McGinnery. 
“ Truly, I’m worried.” 

Still the search was delayed until darkness 


144 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


had fallen. Then the camp authorities became 
alarmed. A huge fire was built on top of a 
near-by hill, the bugle was blown at stated in¬ 
tervals, and Miss McGinnery set out with a 
relief expedition consisting of Patricia, Joyce, 
and Alice Redmond. 

Camp-fire was abandoned for that evening. 
Most of the girls gathered around the signal 
fire, and made a half-hearted attempt to sing; 
but after the excitement of the night before, 
and lacking Miss McGinnery’s leadership and 
Patricia’s voice, the attempt was half-hearted, 
indeed. Sally was the general topic of con¬ 
versation everywhere. 

The three girls who were on the relief ex¬ 
pedition were very quiet. 

“ Did any one see Sally leave camp? ” asked 
Miss McGinnery. 

All three girls shook their heads. 

“We were off, you know,” Patricia re¬ 
minded her. “ It was because she came to look 
for us that Sally is lost.” 

“ Of course! ITow stupid of me.” 

Again a silence, broken only by occasional 
“ Halloos.” Every time any of them called, 



“You haven’t seen Sally ?”—Page 143 . 





















LOST! 


145 


all four would stop and listen. There was no 
response. 

“ She must have gone a long way, or 
else-” Miss McGinnery flashed her elec¬ 

tric torch among the trees. 

“ Do you think she’s hurt? Or uncon¬ 
scious? ” Joyce was striving to be calm. 

“ I don’t know,” truthfully admitted Miss 
McGinnery. 

“ Wait! What was that? ” said Alice Red¬ 
mond. 

Every one paused abruptly. 

A few feet away there was a movement in 
the underbrush. Miss McGinnery turned her 
flash-light quickly in the direction of the sound, 
and a small forest animal scampered away in 
the dark. 

“ Didn’t mean to disturb you, Mr. Badger,” 
apologized Miss McGinnery. 

“ I’m glad it wasn’t Sally,” sighed Joyce. 

“ Glad! ” They turned to her in surprise. 

“ Why, yes. If she had been so near the 
camp and hadn’t answered, I’d be sure she was 
badly hurt.” 

Cautiously, calling every few minutes, they 



146 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

advanced into the dark woods. Behind them, 
the camp-fire signal grew dim, and the bugle- 
calls were heard only faintly. 

“ It’s—weird out here in the dark,” said Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“Poor Sally! She’s all alone, and has no 
light of any sort,” said Joyce. 

“I do hope she’s not hurt,” said Miss Mc- 
Ginnery. 

“ What’s that? ” 

For at least the twentieth time those words 
were uttered. 

“ I don’t see anything.” Miss McGinnery 
circled the trees with her light. 

“ There—on that low bush—see—it’s a bit 
of red. Sally was wearing her red tie.” 

“ I’m afraid it’s only a berry,” said Miss 
McGinnery. 

But she was wrong. The bit of red was a 
small piece of silk torn ragged and tied on the 
branch of a low bush. 

“ Good! Sally, as usual, had her wits about 
her. She’s made a trail.” 

Lustily they all shouted, but without results 
of any sort. 





LOST! 


147 


“ Do you suppose she’s hurt? ” Joyce’s face 
was white. 

“No good to suppose now,” said Miss Mc- 
Ginnery; “the only thing to do is to follow 
this trail as quickly as we can.” 

Eagerly they pressed on. First one girl 
would see a mark, then another. Sally had 
not used her tie for every mark; now it would 
be a bent twig, again a small pile of stones, or 
an arrow made of pine cones. 

“ Almost think she was playing a game,” 
said Alice Redmond. 

“ No,” protested Miss McGinnery, “ Sally 
knows enough about wood lore to leave a trail, 
not only for followers, but to avoid traveling 
in a circle.” 

Twice they got off the trail, due to Joyce’s 
eagerness, and though valuable time was lost, 
and the anxiety of all was growing, they al¬ 
ways managed to find again the bits of red silk. 
Finally, these grew smaller and disappeared 
abruptly. The girls ran here and there, but 
the trail was done. 

“ Now what? ” Joyce was pale indeed. 

“ She might be hurt,” said Miss McGinnery. 


148 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ What’ll we carry her back on, when we 
find her? ” asked Alice Redmond. 

Miss McGinnery shook her head. “ We’ll 
decide that when we find her.” 

“ Perhaps if we call again-” suggested 

Patricia. 

“ I really don’t believe it will do any good. 
However, we will go over to that clear space 
yonder, and maybe we can make her hear. She 
must be somewhere near here.” 

Silently the girls assembled in the place in¬ 
dicated by Miss McGinnery. 

“ Patricia,” she directed, “ you call. Your 
voice carries. A long, high ‘ Halloo 9 ought 
to reach her.” 

Patricia stood on tiptoe, endeavoring with 
all her might to send her voice far into the 
deep, dark, silent woods. But she never ut¬ 
tered a sound! 

“ Hello,” said a sleepy voice, directly behind 
them. 

Startled, joyous, every one turned. Miss 
McGinnery’s flash-light disclosed Sally sitting 
in a heap of pine needles, rubbing her eyes. 

“ Sally!” 



LOST! 


149 


“ Where have you been? ” 

44 What happened?” 

44 Are you all right? ” 

Sally, still half asleep, continued to rub her 
eyes. 

“ I told you you’d be sorry, Patricia Strick¬ 
land, when you didn’t take me with you this 
afternoon.” 

Patricia laughed weakly and sat down beside 
Sally. 

44 You’ve frightened us all terribly, Sally. 
What happened? ” 

44 Oh, your brother came. Did you know? ” 
Sally turned to Joyce suddenly. Then she 
added, 44 Is he as nice as you are, Joy? He 
looks as though he might be. I liked his smile. 
What’s his name? ” 

44 Sally!” Miss McGinnery nearly shook 
her. 44 Do you realize you’ve given us all a 
terrible scare? Camp is all upset. They are 
building a big signal fire for you, and blowing 
the bugle.” 

44 Such is fame! ” sighed Sally. 

44 You’re lost,” Joyce insisted. 44 Weren’t 
you afraid? ” 


150 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Oh, no.” Sally dimpled. “ I forgot to 
be.” 

“ Well,” said Miss McGinnery, “ if you are 
not going to tell us what happened, we may as 
well start back to camp. They are very wor¬ 
ried over you.” 

“ I—I’m not sure I can walk.” It was 
Sally’s first serious remark. 

“ Are you hurt? ” 

“ I don’t know.” Sally stuck one foot out 
before her and gazed at it ruefully. “ It 
pained at first pretty much until I went to 
sleep and forgot about it. What time is it? ” 

Then Sally caught sight of Miss McGin- 
nery’s face. 

“ I’m sorry. I’ll tell you just what hap¬ 
pened. When Joyce’s brother arrived in camp, 
I was so sorry that he was going to miss see¬ 
ing her that I offered to go find her. I hunted 
and hunted and called and called, but simply 
could not find Joyce and Patricia. Where 
were you, anyway? ” She turned to Patricia. 

“ Never mind, Sally, go on. What hap¬ 
pened to you? ” 

“ Well, I had my camera along. I thought, 


LOST! 


151 


in case of emergencies—well, anyway, I sud¬ 
denly discovered that I was lost. Guess I grew 
panicky for a few minutes, because I began 
to run. Then I decided that that was abso¬ 
lutely the wrong thing to do. I looked at the 
sun. It was setting. By that and various 
other signs I knew it was dinner time. I set 
myself grimly to work then, and began by 
making a trail. I came this far, when I saw a 
funny-looking bird light on this tree. I 
watched a minute. It flew away, came back, 
flew off again. 

“ 4 Ha ! 5 I thought. 4 A nest. And I have 
my camera. Poor Gwendolyn! ’ 

a So I climbed the tree, me and my little 
banjo—no, camera. And I think I really have 
a splendid picture of that nest with three 
young birds in it. The sun was just striking 
level. Oh, I do hope it turns out well.” 

“ What kind of a bird was it? ” Miss 
McGinnery was interested in spite of herself. 
“ I think it was an eagle! ” 

“ An eagle! ” 

“ At least, it looked that big when it came 
back and found me near that nest. It flapped 



152 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


at me and picked at me, and in my hurry to 
get down out of that tree I fell.” 

“ Sally!” 

“ I did; and my ankle turned under me. 
O-oh, it hurt—at first. And I was hungry. I 
didn’t think I could walk any farther; so, in 
order to forget my woes, I went to sleep on 
these comfy pine needles.” 

“We certainly are glad you’re found.” 
Patricia smiled at Sally. 

“ I should think you would have been afraid 
out here in the woods alone,” said Alice Red¬ 
mond. 

“ Can’t be afraid when ypu’re asleep. That’s 
another reason I went to sleep. Maybe I can 
walk now. I’ll try.” 

Sally got to her feet, and found that with 
Joyce on one side of her and Patricia on the 
other, she could walk quite comfortably. 

“ Now, if I only had some food I’d be abso¬ 
lutely happy.” 

“ I brought you some,” said Joyce. 

“ Joyce! ” Sally was really grateful. “ You 
are the most thoughtful person I ever knew. 
If that brother of yours is half as nice as you 



LOST! 153 

are I’ll forgive him completely for getting me 
into all this trouble.” 

“ He’s twice as nice as I am,” insisted Joyce. 
“ Impossible! ” murmured Sally, as the ex¬ 
pedition started back to camp. 


CHAPTER XI 


GULLIVER LODGE 

In spite of Sally’s escapade, she was quite 
able as well as greatly delighted to go with 
Patricia and Joyce to Gulliver Lodge. 

With much giggling and whispering, these 
three left the tent very early Saturday morn¬ 
ing. They went as quietly as possible so as to 
disturb no one. 

“ King Tut’s Chariot ” was parked on the 
• far edge of camp. It most certainly deserved 
its name, for it was old and dilapidated enough 
to have been in existence untold years. It was 
completely minus a top, and the self-starter 
worked only spasmodically. 

“ Anyway,” said Salty, as she climbed gaily 
into the back seat, “ it has four wheels that go 
round—sometimes.” 

“ I hope it holds together until we get there,” 
said Joyce. 

“ And I hope the self-starter works,” said 

154 


GULLIVER LODGE 


155 


Patricia, almost seriously, as she climbed in 
behind the wheel. After two or three attempts, 
the engine started. 

“ Are you sure you can run it? ” Sally 
looked a bit dubious as Patricia grasped the 
wheel and steered the car into the road. 

“Of course,” said Patricia; “ would you 
rather drive it yourself, Sally? ” 

Sally bounced up and down on the back seat. 
“Me? Oh, no! I can’t drive.” 

“ You can’t? ” Patricia looked surprised. 

“No,” said Sally disgustedly; “Dr. Or- 
cutt never would let me.” 

“Who? Oh, your father,” said Joyce. 
“ Sally, I never can get used to that ridiculous 
habit of yours of speaking of your father in 
that way.” 

“ I suppose that’s where Gwendolyn and 
her friends got the idea I was an orphan, or 
adopted, or something. And if she knew that 
I couldn’t drive a car, she’d be convinced of 
it.” Sally giggled. “ I believe I’ll tell her 
about it to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, Sally! ” protested the other two girls 
in chorus. 


/ 


156 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ I tried once when I was a chit, and the 
car ran away and nearly smashed us both. It 
is one of the few things that Dr. Orcu—I 
mean my father, is extremely severe about. 
Only I shouldn’t tell Gwendolyn that. Really, 
camp wouldn’t be half so much fun without a 
few snobs about.” 

“Oh, Sally!” protested Joyce again, but 
Patricia did not join her this time. Her face 
was an uncomfortable red, and she was silent. 

“ You should meet Grandma Parsons,” said 
Patricia at last. 

“ Your grandmother? You spoke of her be¬ 
fore. Why don’t you ask her here for Guest 
Week? ” 

“ Perhaps I will” 

“ Is Guest Week much fun? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Indeed it is. It’s fully as thrilling as 
Commencement Week at school. We have all 
our races, swimming and running, and horse¬ 
back. Ribbon awards given for every event. 
Also a prize for the best tent. And we ex¬ 
hibit our bird collections. Honor for the best 
one of those, too, and-” 

“ What are the prizes? ” asked Patricia. 



GULLIVER LODGE 


157 


“ Oh, not so much. It’s just really the thrill 
of being the best. Last year they had lemon 
pies for the best tent record. We won.” Sally 
smacked her lips. 

“ Does every girl have some one here? ” 

“ Oh, no—not every one. Some of them live 
too far away to have their friends come; but 
a great many parents do come. And then the 
best ‘ stunt ’ is put on again. And the Camp 
Featherhead elected.” 

“ Camp Featherhead! Gracious! What’s 
that?” 

“ The girl who is picked as being the best 
all-around type, representative of camp, is 
given an Indian headdress, and crowned Camp 
Featherhead. It is quite an honor—and lots 
of fun.” 

“ Does this last a whole week? ” asked Joyce. 

“ No, it really begins on Thursday, and ends 
Saturday afternoon, with the presentation of 
the ‘ stunt.’ ” 

“What’s that?” asked Patricia quickly. 

“ What’s what? The ‘ stunt ’ ? Why, you 
know as well as I-” 


“ Oh, no! Listen to that engine.” 




158 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


The girls stopped their chattering and lis¬ 
tened intently. The car still moved, but the 
engine was missing badly. 

“ I think it’s gasping its last.” Sally gig¬ 
gled. 

Apparently she was right. The engine sput¬ 
tered once or twice more and stopped. Hur¬ 
riedly Patricia stepped on the self-starter. 
There was a reassuring whir, a sputter, a gasp, 
and the engine stopped again. Patricia pulled 
out the choke, pushed up the throttle and again 
tried the self-starter. This time the engine 
merely sputtered. 

“ Now what shall we do? ” asked Joyce. 

“ I’ve probably flooded it,” said Patricia. 
“ We’ll just have to sit and wait for some of 
the gasoline to evaporate.” 

“ Then I think I’ll go look for a vireo’s 
nest,” said Sally. 

“ You stay where you are,” commanded 
Joyce. “You got into enough trouble yes¬ 
terday hunting for nests.” 

“ Indeed, I’ll have you know it was for you 
I was hunting, not for nests.” 

“ Well, we can’t let you get lost again this 


GULLIVER LODGE 


159 


morning. It’s no great hardship just to sit 
here.” 

“ Except that I am anxious to see Mother 
and Dad,” said Patricia. 

“ And Raoul,” added Joyce. 

Joyce was right. It was no hardship to sit 
there in the early morning. Huge trees rose 
on both sides, nodding and bending together 
slightly, stirred by a light breeze. The air was 
invigorating, refreshing, carrying a very faint 
odor of pine. 

“Oh!” Sally sniffed. “Oh, I feel as 
though I’d like to breathe it all in.” 

Imperceptibly, the girls grew quiet, sitting 
there under the influence of the great trees and 
the vast blue sky. 

“ Makes me feel solemn,” said Sally, and her 
voice was hushed and reverent. “ When I was 
a very little girl, I used to go out to some woods 
near the house and sit ever so still for hours, 
watching the trees. I used to think then that 
the trees bent of their own accord and made 
the wind.” 

“ When I was little,” said Joyce, “ I used 
to lie and look at the stars. It seemed to me, 


160 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


then, if I looked long enough that they were 
merely little holes, and the glory of Heaven 
was shining through them.” 

Again the girls were silent for a long time, 
each thinking her own thoughts. 

Finally, with a sigh, Patricia leaned over and 
put on the switch. 

“ I honestly hate to disturb these woods and 
this quiet, but if we want to eat breakfast at 
Gulliver Lodge, we simply must start.” 

“ If we can,” amended Sally, returning to 
her old gay manner in an instant. 

Seemingly, however, they could not, for this 
time the self-starter refused to work. 

“ Oh,” lamented Patricia, “ do you suppose 
we’ll have to go back to camp and miss this 
lovely trip, after we have permission—and 
all? ” 

“ Never,” protested Sally valiantly; “turn 
back now, and be the jest of camp? Never! 
Besides,” she dimpled mischievously, and as¬ 
sumed a fake voice, “ I’m just dying to meet 
Joyce’s brother.” 

“You sound like Helen Trowbridge,” said 
Joyce laughingly. “Personally, I’m anxious 


GULLIVER LODGE 


161 


to get to the Lodge for a very commonplace 
reason. I’m hungry.” 

“ Oh,” wailed Sally, “ why did you speak 
of it? ” 

Patricia was looking serious. 

44 Honestly, girls, I don’t know what we can 
do. If this car won’t start, it won’t go. That’s 
good, sound logic—and the car won’t start.” 

“ Is there no other way we could start it? ” 
asked Joyce. 

“We might try the crank, but it may still 
be flooded, and that would mean a lot of work 
for nothing. Besides, none of us know much 
about cranking, and we might do something 
or other to an arm.” 

44 Suppose we get out and push! ” 

Sally’s remark was meant facetiously but 
Patricia took it seriously. 

44 We might do that. If we could get it over 
the top of that hill yonder, I could put it into 
gear as it rolled down, and likely start the en¬ 
gine that way.” 

44 Can-that be done? ” asked Joyce. 

But Sally, wasting no words, was already 
out and pushing at the back of the car. The 


162 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

task was arduous, but fortunately the hill was 
only a few rods away. With Patricia at the 
steering-wheel, the car began gently to coast. 
All three girls held their breaths as Patricia 
threw out the clutch and then very quickly let 
it in. The engine coughed, gasped, stopped, 
coughed again, and started. 

“ Hurrah! ” shouted Sally. “ Hurry, Joyce, 
run and jump in before it stops.” 

The rest of the ride was hilarious. Joyce 
and Sally bounced around in the back seat, 
talking to the car, urging it on as though it 
could understand them. Patricia laughed at 
their remarks but kept doggedly at the busi¬ 
ness of running the car. The road was rough, 
there were a good many hills, still the car at 
least kept moving. But within half a mile of 
their destination, without rhyme or reason, the 
engine again stopped. The girls looked at one 
another in dismay for a minute, and then broke 
forth into hilarious laughter. 

“Now what shall we do? ” gasped Sally. 
“ There are no hills to be seen, and I flatly 
refuse to go into a place like Gulliver Lodge 
pushing this car.” 


GULLIVER LODGE 163 

“No,” admitted Patricia ruefully, “ it was 
bad enough to appear riding in it.” 

“ Try the starter again, Patricia.” 

But Patricia could not get the engine to 
running. 

“ All I can see to do,” said she, “ is to push 
this a bit off the road. If we can’t run it, no 
one else can, and I’m not bragging about my 
own ability, either.” 

“ At least it isn’t far,” said Joyce. “ That 
last sign said half a mile. We can easily walk 
that.” 

“ Personally I believe in signs,” said Sally. 
“ Come on, third-class passengers get out and 
push.” 

Inside of a few minutes the girls were swing¬ 
ing merrily along down the dusty road towards 
Gulliver Lodge. 

Joyce hesitated a little and dropped behind 
the other girls shyly when they entered the 
hotel. She stopped to gaze around the room 
while the other girls went up to the desk. 

The room was large but roughly finished. 
The walls were made of huge logs, chinked 
in; the ceiling was raftered; a glassed-in porch 


164 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


occupied the end of the room which overlooked 
the lake. A huge open fireplace took up a 
large share of the opposite wall. 

“ What a ducky place,” said Sally, as she 
came back to where Joyce stood. 

“Mother and Father are here.” Patricia 
joined them. 

“ What a terrific joke on us if they hadn’t 
been,” said Sally; “ I’m starved.” 

“ Is Ray here, too? ” asked Joyce, eagerly. 

Patricia nodded. “ I do hope he hasn’t told 
Mother and Father what he did yesterday. It 
will be such a lark to surprise them.” 

“ I’m starved,” repeated Sally. 

“Poor child!” Patricia teased her, shak¬ 
ing her head sadly. “No doubt, by the time 
the dining-room opens, Sally will be with us 
no longer. She will have died of starvation.” 

“ Opens? ” gasped Sally. “ Patricia Strick¬ 
land, you don’t mean to tell me you have in¬ 
veigled me into coming clear over here so early 
that breakfast isn’t ready.” 

“ Does sound impossible,” admitted Patri¬ 
cia, “ but the clerk said no service for at least 
half an hour.” 


GULLIVER LODGE 


165 


Sally groaned in mock horror. 

“ Let’s go down and get a closer look at the 
lake,” suggested Joyce. 

“ From any distance, it is but water, and I 
crave food,” insisted Sally. 

“I’m hungry, too,” admitted Patricia, “ but 
I’m so excited about seeing Mother and Dad 
that I don’t especially mind. I’m half tempted 
to go up and rap on their door. Still I do 
think it would be a lot more fun to surprise 
them.” 

Sally sighed. “ In that case, I suppose we 
might as well go down to the shore. Diversion 
will help to keep my mind off breakfast.” 

The lake was really a large body of water. 
In the morning sunlight it sparkled with little 
ripples. 

“ Oh,” said Sally, “ why were we so stupid 
as not to bring bathing-suits! I’d love a swim 
right now.” 

“ Didn’t you bring yours? We did,” said 
Joyce. 

“ Where are thev? ” 

Joyce and Patricia looked at one another. 

“ In the car,” admitted Joyce, sheepishly. 


166 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Good place for them,” said Sally. 44 Al¬ 
most as good as camp, where mine is.” 

“ If you had a swim, now,” said Patricia, 
“ there wouldn’t be enough in this whole place 
to satisfy you for breakfast.” 

“ Ever notice,” mourned Sally, 44 when 
you’re hungry—really hungry—people keep 
talking and talking about food? ” 

44 Then to change the conversation,” said 
Patricia, 44 somebody is in swimming, out there. 
See?” 

44 Oh, doesn’t it look good? ” said Sally. 44 1 
do wish we had our suits.” 

Far out in the lake, two men were swimming 
steadily. 

44 What a splendid stroke,” said Sally. 

44 You mean the one on the right? ” asked 
Patricia. 

44 No, the one on the left.” 

44 1 think the other man seems steadier. 
Look. They both can cover distance, can’t 
they? ” 

She still gazed out across the water. 

44 1 still like the other’s stroke best,” insisted 
Sally. 



GULLIVER LODGE 


167 


“ Why,” squealed Joyce, suddenly, “ that 
looks like Ray.” 

“ It is.” Patricia looked again. “ Ray and 
Dad! They are early risers.” 

“ Early! ” ejaculated Sally. “ What do you 
call us, then? ” 

Eagerly the girls watched, but the men 
turned and swam to the left. 

“ Oh! ” Patricia was disappointed. “ Where 
do you suppose they are going? ” 

“ Looks like a bath-house down there,” said 
Joyce. “ I don’t believe they even saw us. I’m 
sure they didn’t recognize us. Let’s step be¬ 
hind these trees and jump out at them when 
they come along.” 

They did not have long to wait before Raoul 
and Mr. Strickland came along. 

“Why, Patricia!” Mr. Strickland was 
astonished. “ Where did you come from? 
How did you get here? ” 

“ We dropped down from the sky,” asserted 
Patricia. 

“ Are you in the habit of coming over here 
for your breakfast? ” he asked half seriously. 

“No, we learned you were here, and-” 



168 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ How did you learn that? Your mother 
and I planned to surprise you.” 

“ I didn’t know that,” said Ray regretfully. 
“ I stopped at camp yesterday.” 

“I see,” said Mr. Strickland. “Well, the 
tables are turned; fair enough.” 

“Is every one all right at home, Ray?” 
asked Joyce, eagerly. 

“ Just fine,” said Ray. “ Bobbie sent you 
some fudge he made, and Timmie-” 

“Trust Bobbie!” said Joyce. “I can 
imagine what it will taste like. Oh, Sally,” 
she became suddenly aware of Sally standing 
quietly to one side, “ I am the rudest thing. 
This is my brother, Ray.” 

Sally curtesied demurely and altogether 
charmingly. 

“ And this is my Dad,” said Patricia, link¬ 
ing an arm through her father’s. 

Again Sally curtesied, her mischievous eyes 
downcast. 

Mr. Strickland smiled at her, thinking her a 
demure little thing, and rather surprised that 
Patricia had brought such a quiet child along 
with her. 



GULLIVER LODGE 


169 


“ I still have not learned how you managed 
to get here so early. And what is even more 
important, have you had breakfast? ” 

Sally’s eyes flew open, her demure manner 
dropped from her as though it had been a cloak. 
Her smile shone forth. 

“ Oh,” she said, “ you’re almost as nice as 
Dr. Orcutt. That’s just what he would have 
said.” 

“ Then let’s all race to the hotel—and food,” 
suggested Raoul. 

“ Breakfast isn’t ready yet,” wailed Sally. 

“ Yes, it is. I heard the gong ten minutes 
ago.” 

“ Oh,” Sally wailed again, 44 and we’ve 
wasted all this precious time! ” 

44 Then let’s not waste any more.” 

44 One—two—three—Go,” Mr. Strickland 
commanded. 

There was a scramble, a dash, a breathless 
run, and to every one’s surprise and delight, 
Mr. Strickland won the short race. 

44 1 hate to admit it,” said Sally when she 
had recovered her breath, 44 but I don’t believe 
Dr. Orcutt could have done that.” 





170 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“Who is this famous Dr. Orcutt? ” asked 
Ray. 

Sally smiled up at him. 

“ He is my one and only Dad,” she said. 

Ray laughed heartily. “ Joyce,” he ap¬ 
pealed to his sister, “ is she always like this? ” 

“ Generally much worse,” admitted Joyce. 

“ Here is the dining-room,” said Mr. Strick¬ 
land. “You children go in. I’ll go up and 
tell Mrs. Strickland that we are ready to eat.” 


CHAPTER XII 


A BUSY DAY 

Breakfast was a gay, hilarious affair. Al¬ 
most no one else in the hotel had risen so early, 
and the room was almost deserted. The 
Strickland table was in a recess overlooking 
the lake. Mrs. Strickland appeared looking 
just a trifle sleepy. 

“ Such early birds!” she greeted the girls, 
as she kissed Patricia. “ I don’t see how you 
ever managed to waken this daughter of mine 
so early.” 

“ We didn’t,” Joyce assured her. “ Patricia 
wakened us.” 

“ That must indeed be a wonderful camp! ” 

“ Oh, it is, it is! ” The girls were unanimous 
in their enthusiasm. 

All chattering at once, they told of the vari¬ 
ous joys of camp life. 

“ You-all surely will be here for Guest 
Week,” said Sally. 

“ Sally Orcutt! That’s the first Southern 

171 


172 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

colloquialism I ever heard you use,” said Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ What did I say? Oh, I know—‘ you-all.’ 
I always lapse when I get excited. I had all 
that well drilled out of me in France.” 

“France!” said Patricia. “I never knew 
you had been there.” 

“ Oh, yes. But I want to know if your 
mother and father won’t be here for Guest 
Week.” 

“We hope so, Sally.” Mr. Strickland 
smiled at her, wondering how he had ever con¬ 
sidered her quiet. “ I should be tempted to 
come if for no other reason than to meet Dr. 
Orcutt.” 

“ Oh, I do hope he will be here. He couldn’t 
come last year, and if he doesn’t come this year, 
I’ll weep and weep and weep.” 

“ What will we do after breakfast? ” asked 
Patricia. 

“ Well, there are any number of things to 
do,” said her father. “ They have a very fair 
golf course here.” 

“ But no one has any golf sticks,” protested 
Patricia. 


A BUSY DAY 


173 


“ There are tennis and fishing, a good motor- 
boat for hire, and needless to say—swimming 
and diving.” 

“ And I neglected to bring a bathing-suit,” 
wailed Sally. “ I’ve certainly done my Dumb 
Belle stunt for this day.” 

“ What are you talking about? ” asked Ray. 

All three girls launched into an account of 
their clubs at the same time. 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Strickland, when they 
had finished, “ I’ve been mentally outlining a 
program for the day.” 

“ Mother, I don’t see how you could in the 
midst of all this talk.” 

“ I think it would be well to spend the morn¬ 
ing here at tennis and swimming. They have 
a full meal at one. Then we can rest a bit—at 
least I will, and after that your father will 
hire the motor-boat and we will go down to the 
Point, have a bonfire and a ‘ wienie ’ roast, and 
come back in time to get you over to camp by 
nine o’clock. By the way, how did you get 
here? ” 

“ I’ve been trying to discover all morning,” 
said Mr. Strickland dolefully. 


174 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ I told Dad we came in an airplane, but 
really it was the Blunder-bus.” 

“ A gun! ” ejaculated Ray. 

The girls explained amid more laughter. 

“ And,” sighed Patricia, “ we’ll have to walk 
back and get our bathing-suits, Joyce.” 

“ Ray and I will hike back,” offered Joyce. 
“ I’m sorry you forgot yours, Sally.” 

“ Never- mind,” consoled Mrs. Strickland, 
who saw that Sally was really disappointed. 
“ I bought a new one for Patricia, and if it fits 
you, you can wear that.” 

Glad of a walk after the enormous break¬ 
fast they had eaten, Joyce and Raoul started 
for the deserted car. They had many things 
to talk over. 

“Tell me everything,” began Joyce. 
“ What all has happened since I left? Is Dad 
all right? And Mother? What new pranks 
have Timmie and Bobbie and Bingo got into? 
And Grandma Parsons—bless her heart! She 
wrote she was sending us a surprise, but I 
never thought of you. 93 

“ Any one would think you’d been gone a 
month or two,” teased Ray. 


A BUSY DAY 


175 


“ It seems that long in one way,” admitted 
Joyce. 

“ Well, Timmie and Bingo have been pretty 
good.” 

“ Timmie and Bingo! That sounds as 
though Bobbie had been in trouble again.” 

“ Well, you know Bobbie has a regular 
genius for getting into scrapes,” said Raoul. 

“No one knows that any better than I do,” 
answered Joyce. 

“ He’s been reading several fairy stories 
lately. And a few days ago he found an old 
coat up in the attic. He decided it must be 
the coat of invisibility, and so he put it on to 
test it—and went to sleep waiting for some one 
to come. At dinner time he didn’t show up, 
and we all became alarmed about him. We 
started a regular hunt for him. Mother went 
up to the attic, but it was dark. She called, 
and Bobbie never answered. He kept as still 
as a mouse, and she didn’t see him at all. He 
was sure then that the coat was the real thing, 
and never budged. We became really alarmed, 
afraid he might have fallen down a well or 
something. Finally we reported it. The 


176 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

townsmen were organizing to go out on a hunt, 
when some one rang the fire-bell as a means 
of spreading the news. That was too much 
for Bobbie. He took off his coat of invisibility, 
and rushed madly from the attic, shouting: 

“ ‘ Where’s the fire? ’ 

“ We were all so relieved we forgot to be 
cross that evening, but the next morning, 
Mother tried to remonstrate with him. 

“ ‘ Why didn’t you answer me, Bobbie? ’ 

“ ‘ I was invisible, and invisible people can’t 
talk.’ ” 

“ Oh,” sighed Joyce, “isn’t that just like 
him? ” 

“You can imagine how that tickled Grand¬ 
ma Parsons.” 

“ Ray, what do you suppose she would do 
if she had Bobbie in charge? ” 

Ray shook his head. “ I don’t know. I’m 
afraid Bobbie would be too much even for 
Grandma Parsons.” 

“ Tell me all about this opportunity with 
Mr. Strickland. Wasn’t he a dear to think of 
you? What is it? When do you go to work? 
Tell me all about it.” 


A BUSY DAY 


177 


Ray was silent a few moments. He and 
Joyce had always been the best of friends. 
She had always known all his secret hopes and 
ambitions, but even Joyce had never heard 
from Ray's lips how deeply it had hurt him to 
have to stop school after his second year in 
High School, in order to go to work. He had 
wanted so very much to go on through the Uni¬ 
versity. His big ambition had been to become 
an engineer of some sort. It was the line of 
study which had always interested him most. 
As far as possible, he had kept on with his 
studying in that line, hoping that some day an 
opportunity would present itself. 

“ Well, you know, Joyce, after you girls 
left, Mr. and Mrs. Strickland stayed on at the 
Parsons’ a day or so. They went from West- 
cott to Chicago, and then back up here. The 
evening before they left, Mr. and Mrs. Strick¬ 
land came in to say good-bye. I had my books 
all over the place. It was pretty lonesome af¬ 
ter you girls went, and I was trying to keep 
busy. Well, Mr. Strickland picked up one of 
my books. He looked rather surprised when 
he saw what it was. 


178 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ ‘ Interested in calculus? ’ he asked. 

“ ‘ Interested in anything pertaining to en¬ 
gineering/ I replied. 

“ ‘ You are? What college do you attend? ’ 

“ Well, I hated to admit that I wasn’t even 
a high school graduate, but I did. Then and 
there we got into a very deep conversation. 
We forgot all the rest of the folks entirely. 
I didn’t even know that engineering was his 
line—thought he was a broker of some sort.” 

“ So did I,” interrupted Joyce. ‘ In fact, 
I’m not sure I thought at all. Patricia has 
never said what her father’s business is.” 

“ Well, it seems he is connected in some way 
with the subway construction in New York. 
He said there was a dearth of dependable 
young men to take charge of some of the 
work-” 

“ But you’re so young, Ray,” Joyce inter¬ 
rupted again. 

“ Yes, I know—that’s what Mr. Strickland 
said, too; but I am to start in a small way, 
and have a chance to go to night school. He 
seems to think that if a person has an aptitude 
and liking for any special thing, he will be a 



A BUSY DAY 179 

success in it. He told me that his own father 
wanted him to be a lawyer, but he simply could 
not get interested in law. Anyway, Joyce, I 
am going to have my chance. Isn’t it splendid? 
If I can only make good! ” 

Raoul looked thoughtful. 

“ Of course, you’ll succeed,” encouraged 
Joyce. “ But, Ray,” as a sudden thought struck 
her, “ you’ll be in New York all the time—live 
there? ” 

“ For a while, anyway. That’s the only hard 
part.” 

Joyce sighed, and then smiled bravely. 

“ Well, one more year and I’ll be through 
high school; then I’ll come down and keep 
house for you.” 

“ That would be great, but remember your 
old failing, Joyce.” 

“ You mean-? ” 

“ I mean building air-castles.” 

Joyce nodded. 

“ Life wouldn’t be much fun if we couldn’t 
look forward to something,” she said sagely. 

“ I guess you’re right,” agreed Ray. “ Is 
that what you came over in? ” 




180 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ That,” said Joyce, “ is the noble car.” 

“ Noble! ” Ray laughed. “ Where did you 
acquire that expression? ” 

“ One of Sally Orcutt’s. Isn’t she more fun 
than almost anybody you ever knew? ” 

“ She seems to be,” said Ray, “ though I 
really can’t say I know her; but I like her.” 

“ We all do,” said Joyce. “ Here are our 
suits. I think we were all a little dumb not to 
think of them.” 

“ I’m glad you didn’t. It gave me a chance 
to tell you about Mr. Strickland’s offer. I 
knew you’d be pleased over it.” 

“ It’s great, Ray. I’m so happy for you; 
but I knew an opportunity would come along 
some day.” 

When Ray and Joyce returned to the Lodge, 
Patricia and Sally were having a game of 
tennis. 

“ Come on,” called Sally, “ we’ll play dou¬ 
bles. Patricia has beaten me eight straight 
games so far.” 

“ You must be good,” teased Ray. 

“ I am,” admitted Sally, “ but Patricia is 
much better.” 


A BUSY DAY 


181 


“ That’s the kind of a score Ray generally 
runs up against me,” said Joyce. 

“ Well, then, he can be my partner, and 
Patricia can be yours. That should even things 
up a bit.” 

“ I think we should draw for partners.” 
Patricia came to the net where the others stood 
in consultation. 

“ Either way is all right with me,” said 
Joyce. “I’m not a very good player.” 

“ It’s really fairer this way,” said Sally. 

Patricia said no more, but took her place on 
the serving line. There were times when her 
old imperative self came uppermost. Appar¬ 
ently she was having a bit of trouble with her 
temper; but she said nothing, and took her 
revenge in such smashing drives that even Ray 
missed several balls. 

“ Say,” Sally chided him, “ I thought you 
were a good player. You look like it, but 
there’s a hole in your racquet. So far you’ve 
missed two out of every three balls.” 

“ Wait until I get a chance to drive,” he 
replied, slightly nettled at his own poor play¬ 
ing. 


182 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


That first game was very short. Ray and 
Sally lost every point but one. 

“ My turn now,” said Ray, deftly picking 
up balls with the edge of his racquet. 

But even with Ray’s splendid driving, the 
battle for the second game was a hard-fought 
one. Sally and Ray won it, however, thanks 
to a fumble on Joyce’s part. Patricia sent her 
a furious look. 

“ I told you I was a poor player,” Joyce an¬ 
swered the look aloud. 

Patricia merely raised her eyebrows im¬ 
perially and said nothing. It had been so 
many months since Joyce had seen this side of 
Patricia that she had almost forgotten its exist¬ 
ence. 

The set was soon five to five. Patricia, as 
determined to win as ever, began to drive 
again. 

“ Here,” called Ray, as he missed again. 
“ What are you trying to do to me, Patricia? 
Annihilate me? Wait until after I see New 
York, anyway.” 

“ Are you going to New York? ” she asked, 
rather indifferently. 


A BUSY DAY 


183 


“ Leaving to-morrow.” 

“ For how long? ” 

“ A year, at least. There, I got that one.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Patricia laughed as she 
ran towards the net and dropped the ball just 
back of Raoul, and quite a distance from Sally. 
“Will you be in New York this winter, Ray? 
All winter? ” 

“ Indeed I shall.” 

“ Lucky person! ” commented Sally. “ But 
that ball lost us the game. The set is now six 
to five, and it’s your drive, Ray.” 

But Patricia’s returned good humor stood 
her in better stead than her grim determina¬ 
tion, for Ray and Sally lost again. 

“ Your set, Patricia,” called Sally, gaily. 
“ Guess I simply can’t beat you. Here comes 
your Dad. Maybe he’ll play. He can have 
my place.” 

“ No,” said Joyce, “ I’m a poor player, and 
I’d like to see you four.” 

So Sally and Mr. Strickland played Ray 
and Patricia, and after a hard-fought battle 
Rav and Patricia won. 

“No use,” said Sally. “ I can’t blame my 


184 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


various partners. Must be my fault. Let’s 
go for a swim.” 

“ Wait till you cool off,” said Mrs. Strick- 

4 

land, who had joined Joyce, “ and we’ll all go 
in.” 

Refreshed and ravenous after their swim, 
they all ate dinner. 

“ I didn’t think I’d be able to eat for a 
week,” said Joyce, “ and just see me devour 
this dinner.” 

“ Oh,” said Sally, “ I do feel good. Now 

if I can only sleep for about two hours-” 

“ I’m sleepy, too,” admitted Joyce, “ but I 
hate to waste any of this wonderful day sleep- 

• yy 

mg. 

“ Rest hour at camp has gotten us into bad 
habits,” said Patricia. “ I’m as drowsy as I 
can be.” 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Strickland, “ we’ll go up 
to the rooms and rest. The men can see about 
hiring the motor-boat. When we come down, 
we can start for the Point.” 

The girls were really tired, and all three of 
them slept soundly. 

“ I feel fresher than ever,” said Joyce, as 



A BUSY DAY 185 

she settled herself in the motor-boat after their 
siesta. 

“ In that case,” teased Sally, “ there’ll be 
no living with you.” 

“ Is that so! ” retorted Joyce. “ You’re the 
only ‘ fresh ’ one, Sally.” 

“ If I were fresh, really,” said Sally, “ I’d 
ask to be allowed to run the boat. I haven’t 
had my hands on the steering-wheel of a real 
boat for so long that I’m anxious to do it again. 
But really, I haven’t the nerve to ask.” 

“ Y r ou haven’t? ” Joyce laughed. “ It’s the 
first time I ever knew you to be without it.” 

Sally made a face at her. “ Anyway, I’m 
going up and sit by your brother while he runs 
it, and show him how to do it.” 

“ Ray does know a lot more about horses 
than he does about machines,” said Joyce. “ I 
hope he’ll manage.” 

‘‘Horses!” exclaimed Sally. “Really! 
lie should know Granny Orcutt. Horses are 
her one hobby.” 

“ I trust that wasn’t a pun,” said Patricia. 

Sally was as good as her word. She watched 
Ray carefully while he manipulated the wheel, 


186 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


and more than once their laughter floated over 
the heads of the others. Patricia had grown 
extremely quiet, but Joyce was so absorbed in 
the beauty of the lake, the sky, and the sur¬ 
rounding hills that she did not notice. 

The camp-fire was a merry one. Marshmal¬ 
lows were roasted after the rest of the meal was 
finished. 

“ Do sing for us, Patricia,” requested Mr. 
Strickland. 

“ Oh, Dad, I don’t feel like it just now,” 
said Patricia. 

“Please do, Patricia,” begged Raoul; 
“ somehow I always think of you as you were 
on that first picnic we ever had. Do you re¬ 
member that you sang ‘ Kathleen ’ ? ” 

Patricia nodded. 

“ One of my favorites,” said Mr. Strickland. 

“ Oh,” said Joyce, “ that one about 

“ ‘ I’ll take you home again, Kathleen ’ ? 

I like that, too. Were you homesick that 
night, Patricia? ” 

“ A little. I wouldn’t have admitted it for 
anything in the world, though.” 


A BUSY DAY 


187 


“ Sing it again to-night, please, Patricia/’ 
begged Raoul. “ Because when I get to New 
York, I’m liable to be homesick, too. And 
then, if I can remember that song and think 
how plucky you were out there in Westcott, 
maybe I can keep a stiff upper lip, and not 
admit it, either.” 

Patricia smiled at him. “ All right,” she 
said. 

And standing there, lovely against the dark 
night, the firelight on her face and on her 
glorious hair, she sang as she had never sung 
before. 

“ Splendid,” approved her father. “ Y r ou 

are putting more feeling into your voice, Pat- 

• * >> 
ricia. 

And though Ray said no word, Patricia 
knew somehow that he was deeply grateful to 
her. And for almost an hour, she sang gaily 
on, choosing for the most part merry little 
songs, the choruses of which the others hummed 
or sang \yith her. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“ I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 

“ Oh,” Patricia flung herself down on her 
cot at the beginning of free hour, “ only two 
days before my 4 stunt,’ and I’m nearly fran¬ 
tic.” 

“ Why? What’s gone wrong? ” asked 
Joyce. 

44 Everything—mostly.” 

44 Won’t the girls rehearse? Can’t you find 
any one to sing? ” 

44 Oh, they’re pretty good about rehearsing. 
They all want it to be a success, too. And as 
to the singing, it really doesn’t matter so much 
if they can’t sing. It’s lots funnier that way; 
but—costumes! I’m in desj^air, especially over 
the one for the janitor.” 

44 If I were you,” interrupted Gwendolyn, 
44 I’d order the costumes sent in.” 

44 That could be done, of course,” said Patri¬ 
cia, 44 but it’s hardly the fair thing to do. It’s 

much more sporting to get everything here; 

188 



* I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 


189 


let the girls figure out their own. It’s more 
fun, and makes it more ridiculous; but—that 
old janitor costume! ” 

“ Helen Trowbridge had the costumes for 
her ‘ stunt ’ sent in.” Gwendolyn raised her 
eyebrows. 

“ I thought she did,” said Patricia. 

“ And her 4 stunt ’ was lovely. No one else 
will be able to compete with it, of course.” 

“ Joyce’s will be much better than Helen 
Trowbridge’s was.” Patricia smiled at Joyce. 
She knew what Joyce had planned for her 
stunt. 

“ It won’t be unless you help me, Patricia. 
And my costumes will certainly have to be 
home-made, or rather camp-made.” 

“ That’s the trouble with you girls,” sneered 
Gwendolyn. “ You can’t afford to spend any 
money on these things, and yet you expect 
them to be good.” 

“ Who says we can’t afford it? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia, quietly. 

“ It certainly is very evident. Look at the 
‘ stunt ’ you chose for our club. Personally I 
don’t think much of it.” 


190 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ No doubt you would have been able to do 
much better.” Patricia’s tone was dangerously 
quiet. 

“ No doubt I would,” bragged Gwendolyn. 
“ If I had planned this, I would have had a 
pageant as gorgeous as Helen’s. I would have 
ordered all my costumes. That’s the way we 
do things in Philadelphia. You Westerners 
really don’t know how to do things right. 
Why, when I give a party, I always have two 
or three caterers from the city and hire my 
orchestra from New York.” 

“ What’s wrong with the Philadelphia or¬ 
chestras? ” Joyce giggled. 

Gwendolyn withered her with a glance, and 
continued: 

“ I had a jazz party at my house just be¬ 
fore I left for camp. Really, it was more fun. 
We had two orchestras. As soon as one 
stopped, the other started. I didn’t have time 
to stop dancing for one minute. And I wish 
you could have seen the food we had. The 
dining-room was packed most of the time, and 
it is a large room, at that. Of course, the whole 
house is large, and our grounds cover several 


* I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 191 

acres. But I wish you could have seen the 
food that night. All the men said-” 

“ Are you out? ” interrupted Patricia. 

Gwendolyn stopped short in her headlong 
boasting. “ Out?” she repeated blankly. 
“ Out? What do you mean? ” 

“ Yes,” said Patricia, “ certainly you 
wouldn’t be anything more than a sub-deb. In 
the circles in which I move, we don’t plaster 
it on quite that thick—at any rate, not at our 
age.” 

“ Why—why-” gasped Gwendolyn. 

“You little, small-town girl, you! What do 
you know about society? Helen Trowbridge 
says that’s the way they do things in New 
York.” 

“ Yes, Helen Trowbridge would do it about 
like that. So it was her party you were de¬ 
scribing, and not your own,” observed Patri¬ 
cia. 

Gwendolyn turned on her. “ I certainly 
wouldn’t criticize New York society unless I 
knew something about it. There isn’t a girl 
in camp that has the class and the manners 
that Helen Trowbridge has.” 




192 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ No,” said Patricia, “ there isn’t. Her 
manners are very crude.” 

“ What does a small-town girl from West- 
cott, Minnesota, know about New York man¬ 
ners? ” snapped Gwendolyn. 

“ Not much! ” answered Joyce. 

“ Except that good manners are good man¬ 
ners the world over,” added Patricia. “ That’s 
why it’s plain to see that Sally Orcutt comes 
from a good family.” 

“ Sally! ” sneered Gwendolyn. “ She is the 
rudest, flippest person I know.” 

“ Flip? ” said Patricia. “ Perhaps; but she’s 
so clever and sweet about everything that she’s 
never rude. She never says or does unkind 
things. Pier remarks are only clever and 
funny and meant to tease. Sally is never 
mean” 

“ I consider her a poorly bred, ignorant girl. 
It’s plain to see that she hasn’t a cent. Sev¬ 
eral of us still think she is earning her way 
through camp.” 

Patricia smiled. “ I think several of you 
(principally you and Helen Trowbridge, I 
suppose) are to have a very great surprise.” 


* I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 


193 


“ Why? What do you know about Sally? ” 

“ Very little,” said Patricia, “ as far as 
financial or social standing goes. But Grand¬ 
ma Parsons has taught me a few things, hasn’t 
she, Joyce? ” 

Joyce smiled at her. 

“ I think Sally’s a real girl,” said Joyce, 
“ and I don’t care whether she has any money 
or not; I like her.” 

“No, you two wouldn’t care—you don’t 
know enough. And I think you’ll find that 
Sally is not only earning her way but that she 
is also up to some mischief during these mys¬ 
terious daily disappearances of hers. I’ve a 
notion to report her.” 

Gwendolyn flung out of the tent, her face 
blazing with fury. 

Joyce looked at Patricia, and Patricia looked 
at Joyce. 

“Do you suppose she will, really?” asked 
Joyce. 

“ Report Sally? ” said Patricia. “ I think 
not. And if she did, I don’t imagine Sally 
would care much.” 

“ What do you suppose Sally can be up to? ” 



194 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


It was becoming an almost daily question from 
Joyce. “ I’m so curious.” 

“ I am, too,” said Patricia, “ but no doubt 
we’ll find out one of these days.” 

M/ 

Patricia kept to her idea of having the cos¬ 
tumes made, or at least assembled, in camp. 

The morning of her “ stunt,” Tent Joy was 
a busy place indeed. Girls were constantly 
running in to consult Patricia, or to look for 
costumes, or to try over their songs. Joyce 
and Sally were banished. They went off to¬ 
gether, giggling. 


“ Two little orphans we are, 
We are, we are, we are, 
Two little orphans,” 


improvised Sally. “ Please, Miss McGinnery, 
may we come into your tent? ” 

“ Yes, by all means, come in.” 

“ Oh, what are you doing? ” asked Sally. 
“ Birds?” 

“ Fixing up my collection,” nodded Miss 
McGinnery. “ How is yours progressing? ” 
Splendidly. Listen—don’t you think I 
should have an extra good grade for this? ” 



“ I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 195 

Sally raised her voice in the exact imitation 
of a loon’s long, lonesome cry. 

“ Sally, you startled me! ” 

Sally giggled. “ I’ve heard them calling so 
much around here that I’ve learned to talk 
just like them. If you want to see something 
funny, come down to the lake shore. There 
is a loon family that lives over in the next cove, 
a mother bird, a father bird, and three young 
birds. The young birds are just learning to 
dive, and they are too cunning for words. 
They can give their preliminary call, all right, 
but when they try to dive, they have an awful 
time. Come on down, and I’ll call them over.” 

“ Just a minute.” Miss McGinnery picked 
up her camera. 

Standing on the lake shore, Joyce on one 
side of her, Miss McGinnery on the other, 
Sally began her weird calling. For a feAV min¬ 
utes the lake remained empty; then one bird 
appeared, sailing rapidly along, then another, 
and finally the three young birds. 

“ Oh, there they are,” said Joyce. 

“ Hush! ” warned Miss McGinnery. 

Sally continued her calling. The first bird, 


196 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

apparently the father, circled nearer and nearer 
shore. The mother and the three young birds 
waited and watched him. Suddenly the mother 
bird gave a quick call. The father answered, 
then swiftly disappeared under water. The 
mother dived, too, but, even as Sally had said, 
the young birds had trouble. Miss McGin- 
nery’s camera shutter clicked. 

“ Oh, I hope I got them,” she said. 

“ I’m afraid we’ve lost the older birds,” said 
Joyce, disappointed. 

“ I don’t think so. Wait,” said Sally. 

In a few minutes, the father bird came to 
the surface, further away from shore, but still 
interested in Sally’s calls. 

She varied the tone of her call a trifle, and 
the loon began to answer. Sally continued, 
and the bird still answered, swimming nearer 
and nearer shore. His calls became more fre¬ 
quent and excited. 

“ I must be calling him all sorts of names 
in loon language,” said Sally softly; “just 
hear him scold me.” 

Nearer and nearer came the loon. The 
mother and the three young birds were once 


“ I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 


197 


more in sight, bobbing around out on the lake, 
carefully watching the father bird. 

“ Oh, do let me take your camera,” begged 
Sally between calls. “ Perhaps I can get him 
close enough for a good photograph.” 

Nearer and nearer came the wary old bird, 
very excited now. Sally stood perfectly still, 
the camera held firmly in her hands. She 
ceased her calls abruptly, and the loon stopped 
swimming and remained perfectly still for a 
minute, as though considering the meaning of 
this sudden silence. Sally snapped the camera. 
He faced directly towards the shore. 

The click of the shutter startled the bird. 
With a hurried call, he dived. His family 
heard his warning, and disappeared rapidly, 
one after another. 

“ We’ll see no more of them this morning,” 
said Sally, “ but wasn’t it fun? I do hope his 
picture is good.” 

“ I hope the others are, too,” said Miss 
McGinnery. “ I’ll trade with you, Sally. If 
mine is good, I’ll give you a copy for your 
collection, provided you’ll give me one of the 
old father bird.” 


198 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Of course,” said Sally; “ they really both 
belong to you, anyway.” 

“ Indeed they do not. ]My camera would 
have been of little use without your coaxing.” 

“Wasn’t he funny!” said Joyce, as they 
turned away from the lake shore. 

“ Evenings are apt to come around pretty 
regularly,” said Sally, “ but it seems to me that 
this one must have been delayed somewhere.” 

But it finally came, and Sally and Joyce 
were sent to build the camp-fire. By twos and 
threes and fours, the girls assembled, after 
which there was a wait of a few minutes. 

Then, coming down the slope, carrying a 
screen in front of them, marched the eight girls 
belonging to Patricia’s club, the Swallows. 

Very solemnly they proceeded to a flat 
spot on the beach, and set the screen down. 
Then all the Swallows went behind the screen 
except Patricia. She stood in front of it. 

“ This is the stage. The Opera will now 
begin,” she announced in a deep voice. 

Two girls came out from behind the screen, 
and stood some distance in front of it. 

“ These are curtains,” announced Patricia. 


“ I THINK I SMELL SMOKE 95 199 

The girls stood rigidly side by side, strug¬ 
gling to keep from smiling. 

Then two girls, one dressed as a man, the 
other as his wife, came out and sat down on 
the sand. The costumes were old-fashioned, 
and greatly exaggerated. 

“ The play is about to begin,” announced 
Patricia. “ Curtain! ” 

The two girls in front of the screen ran away 
from one another. 

“ This is Mr. Doolittle and his wife,” an¬ 
nounced Patricia; “ they are eating dinner.” 

The girls who were seated pretended to eat. 
Suddenly, and with startling effect, Mrs. Doo¬ 
little burst forth in song. 

“ Shall we go to that dance? Shall we go 
to that dance? Shall we go to that dance?” 
she sang over and over in a high shrill voice, 
away off the key. 

“ No, no, no! ” sang her husband, in a voice 
as low as the girl could make it. 

“ Shall we go to that dance? ” Mrs. Doolittle 
caroled on gaily to the end of the tune, ac¬ 
companied by her husband’s basso. 

Just at the end of the song, another girl— 


200 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


chosen because she was slight—ran on, dressed 
as a child. 

“ This is Miss Eva Doolittle, daughter of 
Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle,” announced Patricia 
in a stentorian voice. 

“ Oh, mother, oh, father, oh, father, oh, 
mother,” caroled Eva Doolittle in a falsetto 
voice, for several bars. These were her only 
words, interrupted by an occasional “ What is 
it? ” sung by her father or mother. At the 
climax of the song, she paused dramatically, 
her hands out to the audience. “ I think I 
smell smoke! ” 

Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle sniffed vigorously 
for several minutes, and then they, too, began 
to sing in chorus: 

“We think we smell smoke! ” 

At the end of their song, a girl in overalls 
rushed on the scene. 

“ This is the janitor of the Doolittle apart¬ 
ments,” announced Patricia. “ His name is 
Mr. Do-less.” 

“ The house is on fire! The house is on 
fire! The house is on fire!” he sang in best 
grand opera style. 



* I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 201 

“ We think we smell smoke! ” chorused Mr. 
and Mrs. Doolittle. 

“ Oh, save me, oh, save me, oh, save me! ” 
pleaded Eva the prima donna. 

“ I’ll save you. I’ll save you,” promised the 
janitor, making no effort, however, to do so. 

Some strips of red paper were waved over 
the top of the screen. 

“ Flames! ” said Patricia in a loud voice. 

In rushed a fireman. 

“ Save me, oh, save me, oh, save me! ” car¬ 
oled Eva at him. 

“ I’ll save you,” he sang. 

" I’ll save you,” sang the janitor. 

Their duet lasted several minutes, with the 
ever-attendant chorus, “We think we smell 
smoke! ” 

The song grew so violent that the two men 
engaged in a quarrel, still singing. Eva im¬ 
plored to be saved, and Mr. and Mrs. Doo¬ 
little attempted to separate the combatants. 
However, the janitor stabbed the fireman with 
a huge butcher knife, and then fell into a faint 
at the sight! Eva ran frantically from one to 
the other, appealing to them to save her. The 


202 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


janitor finally aroused from his faint, and the 
fireman withdrew the knife as the screen fell 
upon them all. They quickly lay down flat in 
the sand. 

“ The wall falls,” announced Patricia. 
“ Curtain.” 

The two girls ran together again. 

“ Grand opera is always tragic,” announced 
Patricia, finally, and lay down beside the 
others. 

The applause and laughter were hearty. 

“ Do it again,” begged some one in the audi¬ 
ence, as the girls got up to take their bows. 

The girls considered behind the reestablished 
screen. 

“ I sha’n’t do my part again,” said Gwendo¬ 
lyn, who had been the fireman. “ I think it 
is too utterly silly. I don’t see why we couldn’t 
have had something pretty.” 

“ Like Helen Trowbridge’s,” said Patricia. 

“Exactly! Like Helen Trowbridge’s. 
Hers was artistic.” 

Patricia was desperately angry, but she con¬ 
trolled herself. 

“ It takes brains to appreciate satire,” she 


“ I THINK I SMELL SMOKE ” 


203 


said, as she stepped around the screen. 
“ Thanks, girls, for the applause. I’d love to 
give it again, but one member of the cast is 
incapacitated. The fireman not only smelled 
smoke, he ‘ swallowed ’ some.” 

“ Three cheers for the c Swallows,’ ” said 
Joyce. 

While the girls settled for the night, they 
discussed the Opera. 

“ Where did you get the idea, Patricia? ” 
asked Sally. “ It was too clever! ” 

“ I think it was stupid,” said Gwendolyn. 

Patricia whirled on her. “ Did you ever 
hear grand opera? ” she asked, suddenly. 

“No, why—yes, ah—that is-” 

“ I thought you hadn’t,” said Patricia. “ Of 
course it is hard to enjoy a ‘ take-off ’ unless 
you know the real thing.” 

“ I don’t know when I’ve laughed so,” said 
Joyce, “ but I’ve never seen or heard grand 
opera, either, Patricia.” 

“ You will,” promised Patricia. “ Wait till 
you visit Ray in New York.” 

“ Ray? Who’s he? ” asked Gwendolyn. 

“ My brother,” said Joyce. 





204 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Have you a brother in New York? What 
does he do? ” 

“Hush!” warned Sally; “there goes the 
final gong. No black marks for me.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE OYER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 

“ You lucky things,’' wailed Sally. “ Joyce, 
do you hear what the Swallows are going to 
do?” 

“ No,” said Joyce. “What?” 

“ We’re going on a canoe trip,” said Patri¬ 
cia. 

“ That sounds good,” said Joyce. “ Where 
are you going, exactly? ” 

“ I don’t know. I think Miss Me Ginnery 
said to Spirit Island.” 

“ Spirit Island,” again Sally wailed. “ Oh, 
that is the loveliest spot. It’s over in Lake 
Sheboygan.” 

“ Lake Sheboygan? ” asked Gwendolyn list¬ 
lessly. “ How do we get ’way over there? ” 

“ You paddle,” said Sally. 

“ But that is another lake.” 

“ There is an outlet; at least there used to 

be from this lake to that one. But last year, 

205 


206 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


when I was lucky enough to be in on the trip, 
the water was so low that we had to portage 
nearly half a mile.” 

“ Portage? ” Gwendolyn looked puzzled. 

“Yes, portage! Pick up your canoe and 
carry it, with all your belongings in it.” 

“Carry a canoe?” gasped Gwendolyn; 
“ overland? ” 

“ Well, you can swim if you prefer,” giggled 
Sally, “ only the water in some places just 
naturally ‘ isn’t.’ ” 

“ I sha’n’t go,” announced Gwendolyn; “ my 
head aches.” 

“ Really? ” said Sally. “ Oh, then, maybe I 
can take your place.” 

“ Indeed you will not. After thinking it 
over, I believe I will go.” 

“ That was an awful short think,” said Sally. 
“ When do you start, Pat ? ” 

“ In about an hour, Sarah,” answered Patri¬ 
cia. 

“ Oh, I forgot, Patricia; honestly I did.” 

Patricia smiled. “ I thought perhaps you 
had forgotten.” 

“ Where no offense is meant, none is 


THE OVER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 207 


‘ tooken,’ eh? Come on, let’s go down and 
have a look-see at your canoe.” 

There were three canoes, each to carry three 
persons. Sufficient food for the trip was care¬ 
fully stowed away; also blankets for sleeping 
out. Each girl, too, had a rubber poncho. 

“ Oh,” wailed Sally, “ you lucky thing! 
Just the sight of all these canoes makes me 
weep, I want to go so badly.” 

“ Maybe your club will have a chance later,” 
consoled Patricia. 

“ Maybe,” said Sally. “ Who’s to be in your 
canoe? ” 

“ Gwendolyn, and I think Alice Redmond 
will be the third.” 

“ Well,” said Sally slowly, “ perhaps you 
aren’t quite so lucky as I first imagined. Al¬ 
though,” she hastened to add, quickly, “ Alice 
Redmond is a dear.” 

“ Sally,” said Patricia, “ you’re incurable. 
Do you really dislike Gwendolyn so? ” 

“ Truth to tell,” said Sally, “ I don’t dis¬ 
like her at all. I talk a lot—whenever I have 
the opportunity, in fact, but I only mean about 
a third of all I say. Only—and I do mean 




208 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

this—sometimes, I’d like to shake Gwendolyn 
hard when she puts on those airs of hers.” 

“I think we’ll have to invite her to visit 
Grandma Parsons.” Patricia smiled quietly to 
herself. 

“ I am getting anxious to meet Grandma 
Parsons,” said Sally; “she must be wonder¬ 
ful.” 

“ She is,” said Patricia. “I do hope she 
comes for Guest Week.” 

The next half-hour was all bustle and con¬ 
fusion. And at the very last minute, Alice 
Redmond turned her ankle. She had such a 
load in her arms that she was unable to see 
where she was going, and stepped on a small 
stone, which rolled, and Alice went down with 
a thump. 

“ Are you hurt? ” Joyce and Sally rushed 
to her side. 

“ Not much,” gasped Alice. “ I don’t think 
it will last—but, oh, it does hurt right now.” 

Upon examination, it was discovered that 
the injury was not serious, but serious enough 
to debar Alice from the canoe trip. Although 
she was very disappointed, she smiled bravely. 


THE OVER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 209 


“ You go in my place, Sally,” she requested. 

“ No,” said Sally, “ let Joyce go.” 

But Joyce insisted that Sally go, and when 
the canoes finally swung away from the shore, 
Sally was in the rear canoe with Patricia. 
Miss McGinnery’s canoe led the others. 

“ Do you think you can attend to rear pad¬ 
dle? ” Miss McGinnery asked Patricia. 

“ I think so. I’ve never had much experi¬ 
ence with canoes, but I’ve been practising since 
I came to camp.” 

“ Try it for a while, anyway. If you find it 
too hard, we’ll put Sally in your place.” 

So Patricia paddled in the rear, Sally in the 
front, and Gwendolyn sat in the bottom of the 
canoe. 

“ Good-bye! Good-bye! ” Joyce and Alice 
Redmond waved cheerfully at the departing 
Swallows. 

The lake was smooth, the air invigorating, 
and the girls swung the canoes away from 
shore with zest. They paddled steadily for an 
hour. Patricia had no trouble at all with the 
canoe. Sally paddled vigorously in front. 

“ I think I smell smoke! ” caroled some one. 


210 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Gaily the girls all caught the refrain. Sing¬ 
ing and laughter resounded across the lake. 

They stopped for lunch on a little rocky is¬ 
let. The girls gathered fire-wood and soon 
had a fire going big enough to cook the coffee 
and fry the bacon. 

“ I think I smell smoke! ” Again some one 
started the song. 

“ At least we don’t have to be quite so care¬ 
ful with our fire here as we would on the main¬ 
land,” said Miss McGinnery, “ although, of 
course, we will put it out. But a forest fire is 
a terrible thing. When I see all these burned 
wrecks of once beautiful trees now nothing but 
charred stumps and branches, I could weep.” 

“ It is terrible,” admitted Pauline Selby, a 
girl who lived in Wisconsin; “the only con¬ 
solation is the fire-weed.” 

“ Fire-weed? ” asked Patricia. “ What’s 
that? ” 

“ Oh, it’s a lavender weed that grows in 
great profusion on burnt-over land. We 
passed some last year that covered acres and 
acres of ground, with here and there a birch 
tree growing out of it. It actually looked like 


THE OVER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 211 


a huge sea—a lavender sea. Most people hate 
fire-weed because it means the loss of our 
forests, but I must admit I think it is beauti¬ 
ful.” 

“ It is beautiful,” said Miss McGinnery, 
“ but I’d rather have the trees. Well, if every¬ 
body is ready, we’ll start out again.” 

The afternoon sped quickly, but about four 
o’clock the girls all began to get tired. They 
paddled past a seemingly endless number of 
rocky islands and wooded shores. They had 
not yet found the portage out of Lake Winne¬ 
bago, and Spirit Island was still far away. 
At last Miss McGinnery halted the canoe she 
was in, and waited for the other two. 

“ Girls, I’m afraid we’re lost,” she said. 

“ Lost! ” wailed Gwendolyn. “ How shall 
we ever get home again? ” 

“ Oh, that will be easy enough as long as I 
have my compass,” said Miss McGinnery. “ I 
should have used it more this afternoon, but I 
thought I knew the landmarks. But what I 
am thinking of now is to-night. There is a 
rough, deserted lodge on Spirit Island where 
we could have been fairly comfortable. Of 



212 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


course we can land and sleep on any of these 
islands as long as we have our ponchos/’ 

“ Where is the portage? ” asked Pauline. 

“ That’s what I can’t find. Spirit Island is 
only about a half an hour’s jDaddle after we get 
through the portage. But it is getting late in 
the afternoon, and it is clouding up a bit. I 
think perhaps we had better stop on one of 
these islands. We can sleep very comfortably 
if we gather plenty of pine boughs.” 

“ I wish I’d never come,” wailed Gwendo¬ 
lyn. 

“ Couldn’t we look a little farther for that 
portage point? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Why, yes, we could. There will be three 
or four hours of daylight left yet. Only I 
think it’s best not to wait too long. We must 
gather fire-wood, prepare our beds, and cook 
our meal before it grows dark.” 

They did paddle, however, for another half- 
hour. 

The shades of night are falling fast/ ” 
sang one of the girls in the front canoe. 

“ And islands still are floating past,” Sally 
sang back. 


THE OVER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 213 


Although the girls were tired from the long 
paddle, they were still in the best of spirits 
when they finally decided to land on an island 
which was grassy and wooded. 

“ This is certainly not Spirit Island,” said 
Miss McGinnery, “ but I think we shall be 
quite happy here.” 

But matters grew steadily worse instead of 
improving. 

To begin with, the girls had something of 
a struggle landing the canoes and pulling them 
up on the beach. Sally fell into the water, and 
was wet up to her knees. 

“ Oh, well,” she said cheerfully, “ I’m glad 
it’s summer. I’ll soon be dry.” 

“ Summer air is wonderful, but not wonder¬ 
ful enough in this case. We’ll build a fire at 
once and dry you out,” said Miss McGinnery. 
“ Gwendolyn, you help Patricia carry the 
canoe up,” she directed, and hastened off with 
Sally to find some fire-wood. 

Gwendolyn waited until Miss McGinnery 
was out of sight, and then turned her back on 
Patricia and the canoe, leisurely making her 
way up the hill. 


214 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Here/’ called Patricia, “ you are supposed 
to help me with this.” 

“ I think not,” said Gwendolyn. 

“ But you are,” insisted Patricia. 

“ Really, I couldn’t be bothered. I’m not 
accustomed to doing heavy labor.” 

“Indeed!” Patricia’s temper was mount¬ 
ing. “ It doesn’t matter to what you are ac¬ 
customed. This is one place where you’ll 
work.” 

“ I have no intention of working,” answered 
Gwendolyn. “ I’ve paid my way-” 

“ We’ve all done that,” snapped Patricia, 
“ and unless you are the laziest, meanest-” 

“ Oh,” shrieked Gwendolyn, “ oh, oh, 
oh-” 

Patricia stopped, agape, for Gwendolyn 
promptly went into hysterics. 

“ Good gracious! ” Patricia looked around 
at the other girls. “ Some one throw water in 
her face, fan her, do something while I run and 
find Miss McGinnery.” 

By the time Patricia returned with Miss 
McGinnery, Gwendolyn had recovered par¬ 
tially from her hysterical outbreak, but not suf- 





THE OVER NIGHT CANOE TRIP 215 

ficiently to be able to do any of the work of 
gathering fire-wood, of building the fire, or 
of cooking the food. 

The other girls hurried about, reveling in 
the joy of supper and a night spent in the 
open. 

“ Never did taste anything so good as these 
hot wieners,” said Sally, now thoroughly dried. 

“ I think I can eat a little,” Gwendolyn said 
languidly. 

What she ate was a great deal more than “ a 
little.” 

The fire was built up, and the girls arranged 
their pine-bough bed in a circle around it. 
While they were getting settled, a fine rain 
began to drizzle. 

“ O dear,” wailed Gwendolyn, “ now it’s go¬ 
ing to rain! ” 

She was quite correct in her prophecy. 

It rained steadily and thoroughly through¬ 
out the night. Every time a girl moved, a 
torrent of rain cascaded over her. Most of 
the beds were surrounded by pools of water. 
A more thoroughly drenched and bedraggled 
crowd of girls it would have been hard to find. 


216 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Fortunately every one took it as a joke—every 
one but Gwendolyn, who wailed and com¬ 
plained during most of the night. 

It was still raining at dawn. Miss McGin- 
nery arose and tried to start a fire so that the 
girls could dry out and have a hot breakfast. 
But all the wood was so well soaked that it 
was impossible to get a flame. Patricia joined 
Miss McGinnery, thinking perhaps she could 
help her. 

“ Oh, if Joyce were only here! ” wailed Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ Why? What could she do? ” asked Miss 
McGinnery, surprised. 

“ Oh, she’d make it go somehow,” said Pat¬ 
ricia. 

Miss McGinnery smiled quietly. 

Finally, their combined efforts started a 
fire. When the other girls, dripping and be¬ 
draggled, came out of their ponchos, there was 
a blazing fire going under a rudely constructed 
lean-to. 

With much laughter and a good deal of 
scrambling, a hurried and rather scant break¬ 
fast was cooked and eaten. 



THE OVER-NIGHT CANOE TRIP 217 

“ Where’s Sally? ” asked some one. 

“ Here,” she answered, as she nonchalantly 
joined the group around the fire. 

“ Why, Sally, you’re as dry as toast! ” 

“ Of course I am.” 

“ How did you manage? ” 

“ Why, if you girls would learn to construct 
a bed of pine boughs and how to use a poncho, 
you would all be dry, too.” 

“ Oh,” wailed Gwendolyn, “ I’m all wet! I 
want to go home. I’m all-” 

“ Listen,” said Miss McGinnery, sharply. 

Clearly blown to their ears came a bugle 
call. 

The girls looked at one another, and then 
burst forth with shrieks of laughter. 

“Camp!” 

Miss McGinnery looked sheepish. “ Do 
you know what happened? We’ve traveled in 
a circle.” 

“ I suggest we keep our blunder a secret,” 
said Patricia. 

“Agreed,” said the other girls; “else we’d 
never hear the end of it.” 

“ And if any one forgets and starts to tell, 



218 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


I’ll promptly burst forth in song,” threatened 
Sally. 

“ What will you sing? ” teased Patricia. 

66 6 Shades of night are falling fast, 

Islands still are floating past! ’ ” 


was Sally’s response. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE TREASURE HUNT 

“ Now,” said Sally, “ it’s my turn to have a 
‘ stunt.’ ” 

“Not to-night, surely? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Oh, no; Saturday; and I haven’t a thing 
planned. But then I always find that if I 
wait till the very last minute, I have a splen¬ 
did inspiration. If I worry and fuss about it 
ahead of time, things always go amiss.” 

“ That’s a wonderful way to feel,” said 
Patricia. “ Personally I want to have every¬ 
thing ready a week ahead of time.” 

“ Where do you expect to find your inspira¬ 
tion? ” asked Joyce. 

“ I don’t know,” said Sally; “ maybe on the 
Treasure Hunt.” 

“ Treasure Hunt? What’s that? ” 

“ Haven’t they told you about it? ” 

“ No. What is it?” 

“ We all go out over the camp grounds to 

look for things that are hidden.” 

219 


220 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ What sort of things? ” 

“ Oh, different ones. I found a banana pie, 
onee—um-m, it was good!—away up in the 
crotch of a tree.” 

“ Pies don’t often grow on trees,” said Joyce. 
“ Are these treasures always food? ” 

“ Not always, though it is quite often candy. 
Sometimes it’s things for our bird collections, 
or a book. It’s loads of fun.” 

“ When are we going to have one? ” 

“ This afternoon, I think. It’s time for 
swimming now. I’ll ask Miss McGinnery 
while we’re in.” 

Swimming was really the big event of each 
day. Bird collecting was interesting, the 
games were good exercise, and kept every one 
healthy and happy; horseback riding was en¬ 
joyable, and Patricia, Joyce, and Sally went 
out regularly, but the best fun of all was the 
swimming. 

The girls always rowed out to the little div¬ 
ing-board near shore, jumped in, and as soon 
as they were thoroughly wet, raced to the big 
diving-board some distance out from shore. 
Joyce was learning to swim better each day, 



THE TREASURE HUNT 221 

and though she could not hope to compete with 
Patricia or Sally, she felt that she was improv¬ 
ing rapidly. 

“ You’re it.” 

Sally touched Joyce lightly on the shoulder, 
and then made a beautiful dive off the little 
raft. 

Joyce ran towards Patricia to tag her, but 
Patricia also dived. Joyce’s foot slipped on 
the wet boards, and she went into the water 
with an awkward splash. She came up sput¬ 
tering to find Sally near her, shouting with 
glee. 

“ Oh, do it again, Joyce!” begged Sally. 
“ You were too funny.” 

“ Just for that! ” 

Joyce tagged Sally while she was still help¬ 
less with mirth. 

Just at that moment, Gwendolyn made a 
beautiful dive over their heads. 

“ Splendid! ” applauded Sally. “ I didn’t 
know you had it in you, Gwendolyn.” 

Gwendolyn looked at her quickly, but Sally 
was sincere in her praise. 

“ Oh, yes,” answered Gwendolyn languidly, 


222 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ I do a great deal in water sports, generally. 
We spend much time at the shore.” 

“ Really ? ” Sally looked surprised. “ I’ve 
never seen you do much here.” 

“ Oh, no,” replied Gwendolyn, “ it’s such a 
bother!” 

“ Anyway, I’m glad to hear you can swim. 
Ever go into any races? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I won several last summer at the 
shore.” 

“ Splendid! We need more people in our 
aquatic sports. I surely am glad to know 
that you can go into them. Come on. We’ll 
have a try-out right now.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Gwendolyn suddenly. 

“ Oh, yes, surely.” 

“ It’s—it’s such a bother,” said Gwendolyn. 

“ Bother? When you’re in your bathing- 
suit? Nonsense! Come on, Patricia, you and 
I and Gwendolyn are going to race to the big 
spring-board. Joyce can be the timekeeper or 
judge—any title she chooses. Do come on.” 

“ Wait till I get out there.” 

Joyce started for the bigger platform. She 
was well winded when she reached it. Panting 



THE TREASURE HUNT 


223 


for breath, she drew herself up on the boards, 
waved her arms as a signal for the others to 
start, and threw herself down on the sun- 
warmed pine boards to wait until the other 
girls should arrive. 

After two or three false starts, the race be¬ 
gan. Gwendolyn got away a little before the 
other two, and for the first few yards she kept 
the lead. Patricia and Sally swam easily and 
steadily. By the time Patricia passed her, 
Gwendolyn’s arms were going much too fast. 

“ Take it easy,” advised Sally, as she swam 
alongside. “ That platform is farther out 
than it looks.” 

“ I—know—how—far—it—is,” panted 

Gwendolyn. 

Reluctantly, Sally drew ahead of her. 

“ Hello, tortoise,” teased Patricia, over her 
shoulder. 

Forgetting Gwendolyn completely, Sally 
took a few powerful strokes that brought her 
alongside of Patricia. 

“ Have you a stone tied to your feet? ” she 
answered Patricia’s taunt. “ Or is it just an 
anchor? ” 




224 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Smiling, the two girls struck out in real 
earnest. The race was strenuous for the next 
few minutes, until side by side, Patricia and 
Sally reached the float. 

“ Wheel ” said Sally, shaking the water out 
of her eyes. “ I’m winded! ” 

“ So am I,” gasped Patricia. “ I can swim 
forever if I don’t have to rush. Why, Joyce, 
where are you going? ” 

In a mad scramble, for Joyce was not a 
diver, Joyce slid off the platform and struck 
out toward Gwendolyn. 

“ Look! ” said Sally, pointing. “ Signal the 
life-boat, Patricia. I’m going to help Joyce.” 

She and Joyce reached Gwendolyn just as 
the girl was going down. Her eyes were half 
closed; she beat the water madly with her arms; 
she had no breath to call for help. 

“ Here,” Sally stopped Joyce just in time, 
“ if you get around there, she’ll grab you, and 
you’ll both go down. Watch out! ” 

Sally made a quick dive, and coming up be¬ 
hind the sinking Gwendolyn, caught her un¬ 
der the chin with her left arm. 

“ She can’t reach me now,” said Sally, 


THE TREASURE HUNT 225 

stroking out with her free right arm and both 
feet. 

“ Isn’t she heavy? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Not in the water—if she’ll only stop strug¬ 
gling- There!” Sally gasped as Gwen¬ 

dolyn went suddenly limp. 

“ I’ll swim alongside you,” said Joyce. 
“ Here comes Patricia to help.” 

“ Good! ” panted Sally. “ Any signs of the 
life-boat? ” 

“ Right here,” sang out Miss McGinnery. 
“ Can you make it, Sally? ” 

Sally looked up. The boat was only a few 
yards away. 

“ I’ll—hold—her,” was all she was able to 
say. 

In a few moments, both Gwendolyn and 
Sally were in the boat. Gwendolyn had 
fainted, and Sally dropped limply to the bot¬ 
tom of the boat. 

“ What happened? ” asked Miss McGin¬ 
nery. 

“ She said—she could swim,” gasped Sally, 
“ and I foolishly believed her.” 

But Sally was none the worse for her little 





226 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


excitement, although Gwendolyn was sent to 
the Hospital Tent for a day or two to recover. 

“ Are we going to have our Treasure Hunt 
to-day? ” asked Joyce, as the three girls went 
back to Tent Joy directly after lunch. 

“ Yes, I saw the bulletin when I went to 
get the mail. At two-thirty the bugle will 
blow; then we assemble and start all at once. 
I’ll have to hurry in order to get back in time.” 

“ Mail! ” said Joyce, who knew it was use¬ 
less to question Sally as to her mysterious visits. 
“ Did I get a letter? ” 

“ Non, ma chere enfant—not even a ‘ pustal.’ 
Patricia and I were the lucky ones to-day.” 

“ Oh, listen, Joyce; mine’s from Ray and he 
says-” 

“ From Ray! And he didn’t write to me! 
The mean old thing! ” 

Patricia glanced hastily down the page. 
“ Why, yes, here he says he wrote to you the 
day before he wrote this.” 

“ I never got it,” said Joyce. “ Go on. 
What does he say? How does he like New 
York? ” 

“ Says he likes it fine, but that he is utterly 




THE TREASURE HUNT 227 

bewildered. He keeps waiting for the crowd 
to go past.” 

“Not much like Westcott,” said Joyce, rue¬ 
fully. “ I hate to think of going back home 
and not having Ray there.” 

“ Oh—and listen,” said Patricia, who had 
read on hastily, “ this place where he expects 
to go to work isn’t ready for him yet, so Dad 
has taken him on as a private secretary.” 

Joyce giggled. “ Ray knows so much about 
that sort of thing.” 

“ Oh, but listen—again,” Patricia read on 
aloud, happily, “ ‘ Your father is a wonderful 
man, Patricia. He surely has been splendid to 
me. Naturally I know very little about New 
York, and less about this work I am doing for 
him, but he has done all in his power to make 
me happy and contented. And best of all, if 
my regular job isn’t ready for a few weeks, 
I’m to come back to Wisconsin with your 
mother and father for your Guest Week. 
Frankly, anxious as I am to get started on this 
engineering work, I do hope it is delayed until 
after that time.’ ” 

“Oh, oh, oh!” Joyce danced around, “I 


228 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

am going to hold my thumbs hard, and wish 
that he comes.” 

“ Hush, you two.” Sally looked up. “ How¬ 
ever can I read my two precious letters if you 
two jump around and chatter all the while? ” 

“ Two letters? ” said Joyce. “You selfish 
thing! I didn’t get even one.” 

“ But think of the news you did get,” said 
Patricia. 

“Yes, that was worth a dozen letters,” ad¬ 
mitted Joyce. 

“ What was it? ” asked Sally. 

“ Didn’t you hear what I read? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia, in surprise. 

“No, I was too busy reading Dr. Orcutt’s 
letter. Listen to this—he says he really thinks 
he’s coming this time, and Granny Orcutt with 
him. Oh, it will be just priceless if she comes. 
She is such a dear. Oh, and listen-” 

“ We are,” interrupted Joyce, mischievously. 

Sally made a face at her. “ I didn’t see this 
before. How could I have missed it?'” 

“ What? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Daddy says that Granny won’t come un¬ 
less Lee drives.” 



THE TREASURE HUNT 


229 


“Lee? A new chauffeur? ” 

“ Oh, wouldn’t Lee die if he heard that? 
No, Lee is my forty-second cousin, once re¬ 
moved. Oh, and he is the most persnickety 
person! ” 

“ Whatever do you mean by ‘ persnick¬ 
ety ? ” asked Patricia. 

“ It’s the only way I can describe Lee. 
Wait until you see him. He is Lee Davis. 
That should tell you the whole tale. I really 
wish he had never grown up.” 

“ Why? ” Joyce was curious. 

“ Oh, we were infants together. We used 
to scratch each other’s faces, and pull each 
other’s hair regularly. But he got over it.” 
Sally sighed. 

“ Do you still want him to pull your hair? ” 
Joyce asked with a giggle. 

“No, but there are times when I long for a 
real good yank at his. But if Granny Orcutt 
says he is to drive her up here, he will just 
naturally have to do it. And I know he’ll hate 
it. It will be just priceless if one of you pre¬ 
tends he is the chauffeur. Oh, do, will you, 
Patricia? ” 


230 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Patricia smiled. “ It might be amusing.” 

“ Amusing! ” Sally threw up her hands. 

“ Why does your grandmother insist, if your 
cousin doesn’t want to come? ” asked Joyce. 

“ Oh, he won’t mind coming so much—it’s 
doing his own driving that will make him 
cross.” 

“ Doesn’t he drive well? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Drive well? He’s a wonder—just part of 
the machine. Why, once in France—but just 
wait until you see him, as I take it you will, 
for Granny has said he is to drive.” 

“ I thought your grandmother was so mild.” 

“ She is. She’s the dearest, sweetest thing! 
That’s why, if sh(j wants anything, we all just 
fall over ourselves to do it for her. If we 
didn’t, I think every one within a radius of 
fifty miles would just casually lynch us. I 
can’t remember Granny ever wanting anything 
that it just naturally didn’t happen.” 

“ Why does she want your cousin to drive? 
Is there any special reason? ” 

“ I suppose because he is such a good driver. 
Dear old Granny, bless her heart, is a bit ner¬ 
vous, at times. And Lee is the best driver I 





THE TREASURE HUNT 231 

know. But Patricia, if you only will consider 
him the chauffeur, I’ll love you forever.” 

“ You’ll do that, anyway, won’t you? ” 
teased Patricia. 

The Treasure Hunt began promptly at two- 
thirty. Sally was nowhere in sight when the 
bugle blew, but she came racing up to the 
group a few minutes later. 

“ Sally Orcutt, you’re tardy,” said Miss 
McGinnery. 

“ Oh, not late enough to get a black mark? ” 
wailed Sally. “ I ran all the way.” 

“All the way?” Miss McGinnery looked 
surprised. “ All the way from where? ” 

“ From over the hill. Am I going to get a 
black mark? ” asked Sally. 

Miss McGinnery closely inspected the min¬ 
ute hand on her watch. “ No,” she said, “ you 
have just a half second left in the five-minute- 
assembly time.” 

Sally gave a great sigh of relief. “ I 
thought sure that yellow ribbon was gone.” 

“ Now,” explained Miss McGinnery, “ any¬ 
where within a radius of half a mile you are to 
scatter. Various treasures are hidden about. 


232 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

You can have anything you find. Don’t go 
beyond sight of camp. I’m not going with 
you. Each girl is to find what she can by her¬ 
self. This is sort of a ‘ help-yourself ’ treat.” 

“ Cafeteria, as it were,” piped up Sally. “ If 
I find a banana pie, can I eat it all? ” 

“You may, if you find it, but I doubt if 
you can” 

“ Find it or eat it? ” 

“ Either; especially eat it.” 

“ I can eat it if I find it.” 

“Every one ready? You may start. I’ll 
stay here. Be sure you come and tell me when 
you get back. We do not wish any more lost 
persons about.” 

“ How can they be about ” chuckled Sally, 
as she spoke in a low voice to Joyce, “ if they 
are lost? ” 

Sally was soon separated from Joyce and 
Patricia. She went serenely on her way. Her 
hunt was not very successful. Alice Redmond 
found the banana pie, in a spot which Sally 
had just passed, and shouted loudly over the 
discoveiy. Sally, rather disgusted with her¬ 
self, returned to talk to Miss McGinnery. 


THE TREASURE HUNT 


233 


“ Is there another banana pie? ” she asked. 

Miss McGinnery shook her head. 

“ I’m not going to tell you what the various 
treasures are. You’ll be sorry when the others 
return. ,, 

“ Look,” Sally pointed, “ there come two 
of them now. Why, it’s Joyce and Patricia. 
They’re running.” 

Sally and Miss McGinnery both stood up. 

“ What’s wrong, girls? ” she asked, as Joyce 
and Patricia came nearer. Joyce had her arm 
over her face. 

“ Oh—oh! ” she said. “Bees!” 

“ You must mean hornets,” said Miss 
McGinnery. 

/ 

“ Yes,” said Patricia; “ my legs are covered 
with stings, and just look at my arms.” 

“ What happened? ” 

“ Oh,” said Patricia, “ I saw a bag-like thing 
hanging on a limb. I thought it was a trea¬ 
sure. I got a stick and poked it—and look 
at me! ” 

“ Are you hurt, Joyce? ” asked Miss McGin¬ 
nery. 

Joyce took her arm from before her face. 


234 } PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Not hurt,” she answered, but her left eye 
was badly swollen. 

“Oh, oh!” shrieked Sally, “I’m sorry, 
Joyce, but you do look funny! ” 

Suddenly all four of them burst into laugh¬ 
ter. 

“Some treasure!” said Sally. “At least 
I won’t be jealous of these two, Miss McGin- 
nery.” 

Though the stings were painful, they did not 
last long. Patricia and Joyce stayed in Tent 
Joy, and Sally bathed their stings with a lotion, 
all the while calling them “ her dear little 
treasures.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE GYPSIES 

“ O dear,” wailed Sally, “ to-morrow even¬ 
ing is the date set for my ‘ stunt,’ and that in¬ 
spiration just naturally hasn’t arrived—yet,” 
she added hopefully. 

“ Sally! ” said Patricia. “ You don’t mean 
to tell me that you haven’t practised—or any¬ 
thing? ” 

“ I don’t mean to tell you,” said Sally, “ but 
I fear me I must. Nary a practice—nary an 
idea. The Dumb Belles are going to be very 
dumb. I think we’ll just get out and stand 
and be Dumb-bells. The girls really are be¬ 
ginning to pester me.” 

“ Queer,” said Joyce dryly, “ with all that 
time ahead of them.” 

“ Oh, maybe I’ll have a thought yet.” 

The girls were out on a hunt for their bird 
collection. 

“Oh, what luck! Look here!” Sally 

stooped suddenly over a small rock. 

235 




236 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Patricia and Joyce both looked puzzled. 

“What do you see, Sally? And what can 
that stone have to do with your ‘ stunt ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing with my stunt, but much with 
my bird collection.” 

Patricia and Joyce were still mystified. 

“ Do you see these broken bits around the 
stone? ” 

“Yes, I see them,” said Joyce. “ What are 
they? ” 

“ Shells—snail shells.” 

“ You are the most mysterious creature, 
Sally,” protested Patricia. “ Explain.” 

“ This stone is a thrush’s anvil. There is a 
bird, a song thrush, that is very fond of snails; 
but this same bird also knows that it is impos¬ 
sible to get at snails when they are safely in¬ 
side their shells, so it finds a stone, picks up 
the snail, and pounds it against the stone. 
Now, who says birds have no brains? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Patricia, “ and in Greece 
there is a bird—a gull—I believe, that carries 
hard-shell tortoises far up into the air and then 
lets them drop on to the rocks below—in the 
same way.” 



THE GYPSIES 


237 


“ Poor tortoises! ” said Joyce, 

“ Poor snails, too,” said Sally, “ but I most 
certainly am going to bring my little camera 
to this spot and get a picture of that thrush at 
work, if possible.” 

“ How is your collection growing? ” Patri¬ 
cia asked. 

“ All right. But say, have you seen Gwen¬ 
dolyn’s? It’s a wonder. I’m afraid if I had 
seen that first, I wouldn’t have been so keen 
to enter into competition with her.” 

“ Oh, Sally,” protested Joyce, “ don’t tell 
me you are letting that go until the last minute, 
too.” 

“ Well, not exactly. But really, things do 
turn out much better if I wait for last-minute 
inspirations. I am doing some work towards 
it, but you know how it is! There is so much 
to keep one busy all the time, with tableaux—I 
mean pageants, and-” 

Sally stopped and gazed at the other two, 
her mouth wide open. 

“ What is wrong, Sally? ” asked Patricia. 
“ Are you going to have a sunstroke or some¬ 
thing? ” 



238 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Something, I reckon. I just had a gor¬ 
geous idea. I told you an inspiration would 
appear from somewhere. I just knew it 
would, and here it is.” 

“ What is it? ” 

“ Do tell us,” begged Joyce. 

Sally only shook her head. “ If you two are 
so dumb that you can’t guess—well, you’ll have 
to join the Dumb Belles, that’s all.” 

Patricia and Joyce looked at each other, 
mystified. 

“ She must be going to have a bird hunt,” 
said Joyce. 

“ Or else pretend she is a forest. What is 
your inspiration, Sally? ” 

But Sally would not tell, and the rest of that 
afternoon and most of the next day, she was 
busy rehearsing her club. At intervals shrieks 
of laughter reached the other girls. 

The next afternoon, during rest hour, Gwen¬ 
dolyn languidly entered the tent. 

“ Hello,” Joyce greeted her. “ Are you 
coming back to stay? ” 

“ I guess so,” said Gwendolyn, “ though it 
really was ever so much nicer in the Hospital 


THE GYPSIES 


239 


Tent. Helen Trowbridge was there most of 
the time, visiting me.” 

“ Thanks,” said Patricia, drily. 

“ Was your cold so very bad? ” asked Joyce, 
trying to feel sympathetic. 

“ Oh, my cold was all right, but my nerves 
were badly shattered.” 

“ Nerves! ” said Sally, ducking into the tent 
a minute or two later. “ Shattered? What 
from? ” 

“ Why, you don’t seem to realize that I 
nearly drowned.” 

Sally looked at her quizzically. “No, really? 
When did it happen? ” 

Gwendolyn looked at her in amazement. 
“ Oh, yes, you were there, weren’t you? Well, 
these pleasant days in the Hospital Tent 
more than made up for my terrible experience 
in the water.” 

“ Taking medicine and staying in bed! Do 
you call that pleasant, especially when there 
is all out-of-doors inviting us to come and play 
in the sunshine, the woods, and the water? ” 

“ Why, Sally,” teased Joyce, “ you are 
growing positively poetical.” 


240 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Relief always affects me that way,” said 
Sally, giggling. 

“ What are you so relieved over? ” asked 
Gwendolyn. 

“ Oh, my stunt. I am to give it this even¬ 
ing, and until yesterday afternoon, I had no 
idea what it would be. However, a sudden in¬ 
spiration appeared —-” 

“ Yes,” interrupted Joyce, “while we were 
looking at an ordinary stone. I still can’t see, 
Sally, what connection that stone can have with 
a ‘ stunt.’ ” 

“ Maybe it was the snails that produced the 
inspiration,” suggested Patricia. 

“ Humph! ” said Gwendolyn. “ It doesn’t 
sound very inviting. I’m sure it won’t be so 
attractive as Helen Trowbridge’s was.” 

“ No, most likely not,” admitted Sally, “ nor 
as funny as Patricia’s; but I’m doing my poor 
best.” 

“ Oh, Sally,” begged Joyce, “ at least tell 
us what part you are going to take. See if we 
can guess the rest.” 

Sally gazed at her open-mouthed for a min¬ 
ute, and then she began to laugh. 



THE GYPSIES 


241 


“ I think I’ll tell you a little tale of our 
‘ Kaintucky ’ mountains, and see if you can 
guess my part. Aunt Hetty is a dear old soul 
who has lived in one locality in the mountains 
all her life—-all, that is, except a few months 
she spent with us in Louisville. She was anx¬ 
ious to get back to the mountains, but hated 
to go, too. Daddy asked her why she hated 
to leave, and she said she would miss seeing all 
the parades. However, she did go back. 
Daddy took her. And the very first thing she 
did was to give a party in honor of her own 
home-coming. Aunt Hetty invited every one 
she had ever known to her party. Every one 
came and every one had a gorgeous time, 
Daddy said, only Aunt Hetty was nowhere to 
be seen. After every one had left, Aunt Hetty 
appeared. Daddy was so surprised. 

“ ‘ Where have you been? ’ he asked. ‘ Every 
one had such a good time at your party. 
Where were you?’ 

“ Aunt Hetty positively beamed. 

“ 4 Did they? I’m glad. I was too busy to 
come. I’ve been in the kitchen a-washing 
dishes.’ ” 



242 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Patricia and Joyce laughed softly. 

“ I take it from that,” said Joyce, “ that at 
the present time you have absolutely no part 
in your ‘ stunt.’ ” 

“ Nary a part,” admitted Sally, “ except 
* dish-washing.’ ” 

“ Well,” said Gwendolyn, “ your Aunt 
Hetty must certainly belong to that class of 
Southerners known as poor white trash.” 

Sally burst forth into such laughter that 
Patricia warned her. 

“ Hush, Sally. We’ll lose our yellow rib¬ 
bon for to-day.” 

Sally nodded. “ Yes, yes, I will. Never do 
to lose the yellow ribbon when we have so many 
towards our last white one. I do hope we get 
our day off.” 

“ Why are you so anxious, Sally? ” 

“ Because I want to-” Sally stopped 

abruptly. “ There goes the whistle. I can’t 
make my usual trip to-day. I’m going to be 
too busy—dish-washing! ” 

She went out, still laughing. 

While the girls were at dinner, there was an 
unusual commotion outside the dining-hall. 



THE GYPSIES 


243 


“ What can it be? ” 

“ Who is it? ” 

Some one ran in and spoke to Mrs. Pember¬ 
ton who was the head of the camp. Mrs. Pem¬ 
berton hurried out. Most of the girls, unable 
to restrain their curiosity any longer, forgot 
dessert, and rushed out of the hall. 

Before the camp were four Gypsy wagons! 

“ Why, Joyce,” Patricia turned to her, “ is 
this your ‘ stunt ’ ? Did you and Sally plan 
this? How clever!” 

But Joyce shook her head. “ It would have 
been clever if I had thought to do it, but I 
didn’t. I guess these are real Gypsies.” 

And so they proved to be. A number of 
dogs ran around the horses’ feet; several chil¬ 
dren poked their heads out of the rear wagon, 
and gravely surveyed the girls. 

“ Dirty little things! ” sniffed Gwendolyn. 

“ Ducky little things! ” chuckled Sally. “ I 
didn’t suppose Gypsies traveled like this any 
more.” 

“ How else? ” asked Gwendolyn. 

“ They always go through our town in auto¬ 
mobiles, and they go through quickly.” 


244 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

It was plain to see that Mrs. Pemberton 
was really upset over the arrival of these un¬ 
desirable guests. The horses stamped and 
neighed. Plainly they were hungry. The 
women, and some of the men, sat in the 
wagons, talking to one another, once in a while 
speaking to the horses, calling them by their 
names, uttered in queer guttural voices. The 
leader was standing at one side, busily ges¬ 
ticulating and talking loudly to Mrs. Pember¬ 
ton. 

“ But it has been our camping place here for 
very many years! ” 

“You were not here last year.” 

“ But, yes, madam. Only it was much later. 
Even then we wondered who had used our 
ground.” 

“ My ground! ” Mrs. Pemberton corrected 
him. “ I bought it.” 

“ Bought it! Bought it! But it is mine! ” 

He was growing very excited. 

“ Come over to my office. We will discuss 
this quietly.” 

She turned away, and the Gypsy followed 
her with a swinging, rolling walk. 


THE GYPSIES 


245 


“ Wonderful chance for you and your 
Gypsies to get some authentic costumes,” Sally 
whispered to Joyce. 

“ I’m afraid to talk to them,” Joyce whis¬ 
pered back. 

“ Nonsense! Come on.” 

Taking Joyce by the hand, Sally approached 
the nearest wagon. Patricia and Gwendolyn 
followed at a distance. 

“ Hello,” Sally greeted the swarthy woman 
who looked down at her. 

“ Huh! ” the woman answered. 

“Fine,” said Sally to Joyce; “she under¬ 
stands me. Got any scarfs, any bracelets to 
sell?” 

The woman looked around furtively, then 
leaned down. 

“You got some money? ” 

“ Not much,” said Sally, sadly. “ If you 
don’t believe me, ask Gwendolyn.” 

“ Huh! ” The woman resumed her former 
position. 

“That settled that one. Come on; next 
wagon I’ll tell ’em I’m a millionairess.” 

The next wagon contained a young woman 


246 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

who had very dark skin and hair, and a flash¬ 
ing smile. 

“ Tell-a your fortune! ” she greeted the girls. 

“ I forgot about that,” said Sally. “ Do 
you suppose we dare? ” 

“ I dare,” said Gwendolyn, stepping for¬ 
ward. “ Tell mine.” 

She held out her hand. The Gypsy took it, 
looked at Gwendolyn, and said: 

“ A very great surprise, I see, and a dark 
man coming into your life. Oh, very much I 
see. Give me the silver—ah—only a little sil¬ 
ver, and I tell you many things.” 

“ Wait. I’ll get some.” 

She started off, but before she came back, 
Mrs. Pemberton and the Gypsy leader came 
out of the office. Mrs. Pemberton’s face w T as 
flushed, but evidently she had been firm. The 
leader, looking sullen, climbed into his wagon, 
turned his horses about, and drove off the 
grounds, but he did not drive far. His camp¬ 
fire was visible through the trees. 

Mrs. Pemberton watched him go, then she 
ordered every girl into the dining-hall. Gwen¬ 
dolyn came up just as the girls were going in. 



THE GYPSIES 


247 


“ What happened? ” she asked. “ Did that 
Gypsy girl leave? ” 

“ She was pushed,” said Sally. 

“ I’m going after her,” said Gwendolyn with 
more energy than she usually displayed. 

“ Better not. Mrs. Pemberton has ordered 
every one into the hall.” 

Luckily for her, Gwendolyn followed the 
other in. Mrs. Pemberton’s orders were brief 
but decided. No girl was to leave camp under 
any circumstances as long as the Gypsies were 
in the neighborhood. 

“ Well,” said Sally, as they were dismissed, 
“ I’m afraid my stunt will fall rather flat after 
all this excitement.” 

However, Mrs. Pemberton requested that 
everything go on as usual. In fact, the au¬ 
thorities were glad that some special event 
would make the girls forget the presence of the 
Gypsies, and as a special favor, sent down a 
huge box of marshmallows for a roast. 

Sally’s idea had been to have tableaux of 
camp life. Needless to say, these needed no 
extra costumes, and were easily arranged. She 
had chosen all the funny little incidents that 


248 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

come up every day—and she made them as 
ridiculous as possible. 

The first tableau was a representation of 
Joyce’s fall from her horse. One girl sprawled 
awkwardly on the ground. She had a placard 
on her back “Joyce.” Another girl pawed 
the air, and carried the placard, “ Horse.” 
Then there was the incident of the bees; one 
in which two or three of the girls had run 
madly from some mild cows—all the comical 
happenings that Sally could remember. The 
final one was of Miss McGinnery and two girls 
in a canoe, peering anxiously ahead. 

“ Shades of night were falling fast, 

Islands still went floating past,” 

caroled a voice; other voices took up the re- 
frain, and in a general wave of laughter the 
tableaux ended. 

It was during the marshmallow roast that 
Miss Adams came down to the group, looking 
a bit worried. Without any explanation, she 
began to call the roll, which had alread} f been 
called once that evening before the tableaux. 

Sally’s name was called. There was no 
answer. Again she called, “ Sally Orcutt.” 



THE GYPSIES 


249 


“I think,” said Joyce, in a scared voice, 
“ that she just went up the hill a few minutes 
ago with some of the things from the tableaux.” 

“ I looked carefully in every tent before I 
came down,” commented Miss Adams. 

After a minute’s silence, she went on with 
the other names. The girls answered more 
promptly than usual. But when Gwendolyn 
Pearson’s name was called, there was another 
blank silence. The girls looked around in sur¬ 
prise. Miss Adams waited a few tense sec¬ 
onds, called the name again; still no response. 
Without comment, she Avent on to the end. 

“Thank you; that’s all, girls. As soon as 
you have finished here, go to your tents as 
quietly as possible.” 

There was much curiosity about the reason 
of this move. Much to the consternation of 
Patricia and Joyce, although Gwendolyn was 
in the tent, and apparently sound asleep, Sally 
was not in the tent, nor did she come in until 
the last bugle was bloAving. She tumbled into 
bed without a word of explanation. 

The next day, hoAvever, news leaked out as 
it is bound to do. A sum of money had 


250 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


mysteriously disappeared from the office—a 
fairly large sum. None of the girls had been 
suspected, but in order that suspicion might be 
absolutely avoided, Miss Adams had been sent 
to call the roll. The unexplained absences of 
Gwendolyn and Sally had given a rather un¬ 
expected turn to affairs. 

Joyce came into the tent the next afternoon 
to find Gwendolyn in tears. 

“ What is the matter? ” she asked, though 
she thought she knew. 

“ Mrs. Pemberton sent for me. I—I’ve just 
come from there,” sobbed Gwendolyn. 

“ What did she say? ” asked Joyce. 

“ She was—pretty severe,” gulped Gwen¬ 
dolyn. “ I never touched her old money.” 

“ She certainly didn’t accuse you of that? 33 
gasped Joyce. 

“No, not exactly. But she wanted to know 
where I was last evening.” 

“ Well, where were you? ” Joyce had been 
mystified, too. 

“ I—I went after that Gypsy girl and had 
my fortune told. She said there was trouble 
ahead of me, too,” wailed Gwendolyn. 



THE GYPSIES 


251 


“Alone! ” gasped Joyce. 

“ No one else would go. They all said Mrs. 
Pemberton had issued strict orders.” 

“ That’s right, she had,” Joyce remembered. 

“ But I didn’t think I’d get into a mess like 
this!” 

“ Why didn’t you tell Mrs. Pemberton 
where you were? ” 

“ I did, and she scolded me just terribly for 
disobeying such a strict rule.” Gwendolyn was 
sobbing again; “ then she asked me to prove 
where I had been.” 

“ I should think that would be simple 
enough,” said Joyce. 

“ It should be—only the Gypsies have 
gone! ” 

“O my goodness!” Joyce sat down sud¬ 
denly. 

“ What’s all the shootin’ fer? ” Sally raced 
into the tent. 

The whole tale was poured into her ears. 
Towards the end she looked unusually sober. 

“ I didn’t answer roll call, either. In fact, 
I was off the grounds. I forgot about that 
rule so suddenly made.” 



252 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ She’ll send for you,” wailed Gwendolyn. 

“ No she won’t,” Sally answered promptly. 
“ I’ll go up there before she has time to do it.” 
Suddenly she paused. “ And I can’t explain 
where I was, either. O dear, I wonder what I 
should do in a case like this. I wonder what 
the Donkeys would say. Well, if she will give 
me a few days’ time-” Sally hurried off. 

“ I believe she’s guilty,” said Gwendolyn, 
suspiciously. 

“ Oh, Gwendolyn! ” Joyce was utterly dis¬ 
gusted. 



CHAPTER XVII 


Joyce’s turn 

Joyce and her club were the last to have a 
“ stunt.” The week had been a busy one. 
Sally’s gaiety had been a little forced. She 
watched eagerly for mail, but she did not allow 
her troubles to bother any one. Gwendolyn 
studiously avoided her. The money had not 
been found, but for the most part, life went 
on as usual. 

The girls followed their regular routine. 
Games were played every day. Joyce had 
evolved a new game from one she used to play 
as a child, called “ Fruit-Basket Upset.” The 
game was a bit hilarious but very successful, 
and Joyce gained a point towards the honor of 
Camp Featherhead, to be bestowed during 
Guest Week. The featherhead itself con¬ 
sisted of a band of brightly colored Indian 
feathers, and it was given during Guest Week 

to the girl who was judged the best all-around 

253 


254 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

girl in camp, the most thoughtful, the most 
capable, the most genuine—the girl who need 
not necessarily excel in any one thing, but who 
could compete in athletics, who could make 
friends, who could handle a difficult situation 
successfully, who could do bandaging and 
nursing, cooking, or sewing, if necessary; in 
fact, the girl who was thoroughly rounded out. 
It was this type of girl that Camp Ojibawa 
held as its model; but it was rarely that any 
girl was found who was a perfect type, al¬ 
though many came close to it. 

“ Mary Taintor should be here,” sighed 
Patricia. “ I wanted her to come.” 

“ Where is she this summer? ” asked Joyce. 

“ She went to camp in the Rockies with her 
father. They are going to do a little bear¬ 
hunting.” 

“ Are there still bears in the Rockies? ” 
asked Joyce. “ Won’t Mary be afraid of 
them? ” 

“ I imagine not. She was with her father 
once on a lion hunt in Africa. She insists, 
however, they are going to hunt only with a 
camera this time. Really more of a camping 


JOYCE’S TURN 


255 


and tramping trip, it seems. Mary has to be 
the son as well as the daughter in her family.” 

Daily practice in tennis had certainly im¬ 
proved Joyce’s game, but even so, it was 
seldom she could beat either Sally or Patricia. 

“ We’ve played a good many years,” Sally 
consoled her. “ You’ve only just begun. 
You’re a wonder! ” 

“ No, I’m not,” said Joyce. “ It’s just as 
bad in swimming. I never shall be as good as 
you and Patricia.” 

“ And the chances are that we’ll never be 
able to cook or mend as well as you do. That 
supper you prepared over the open camp-fire 
last night was unusually good. I feel hungry 
every time I think of it.” 

“ Wasn’t it fun? ” said Joyce. 

“ I wish they would do it more often. If 
those in each tent could cook their own suppers 
about every other night instead of once a week 
or so, I’d like it lots better, especially since we 
have such a good cook in ours. What was that 
stuff you made last night? All the girls from 
the other tents are clamoring to know how to 
make it, I’ve raved so much about it.” 


256 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Oh, it’s just a camp dish, onions and bacon 
chopped up together and fried, then add to¬ 
mato soup and a beaten egg.” 

“ Um-m,” said Sally, “ it sounds simple and 
not very exciting, but it was good. Personally, 
I’d make you Camp Featherhead just on the 
strength of that one dish.” 

“No danger!” answered Joyce. “There 
are too many things I can’t do; tableaux, for 
instance, and pageants. I’m almost in despair 
over my ‘ stunt.’ ” 

“ Want me to produce a brilliant idea? ” 
Sally giggled. 

“ Oh, I have the idea, all right. I’ve known 
for two weeks just exactly what I want to do, 
but I’m having a difficult time doing it. Some 
of the girls can’t sing, and some won’t stand 
still when they should, especially that little 
Jeanette Carter. And Pauline is so big and 
slow! ” 

“ Well, you have rather a difficult bunch to 
make into Gypsies.” Sally smiled. 

“ How did you know? ” Joyce looked 
startled. “ Oh, I see, you mean the club. I 
thought you meant something else.” 


JOYCE’S TURN 257 

“ Of course. You are the Gypsy Club, 
aren’t you? ” 

But despite all Joyce’s worry, her “ stunt ” 
was most successful. By her request, the 
camp-fire was built up on the hill instead of on 
the beach. 

“ Not too near the trees,” warned Miss Mc- 
Ginnery. “We don’t want to start any forest 
fires around here.” 

There was a grassy glade near camp, with a 
semicircle of trees around it. This was the 
spot chosen. 

For her “ stunt,” Joyce had trained and 
costumed her club of Gypsies to reproduce an 
old English ballad. The one chosen was most 
appropriate for the club. It was called “ The 
Baggle-Taggle Gypsies-oh.” 

Joyce proved a most efficient stage manager, 
director, and costumer. She admitted later 
that she had taken notes fast and furiously 
while the real Gypsies were in camp. 

“ The Raggle-Taggle Gypsies-oh ” was 
sung as well as acted. An English lady, young 
and beautiful, and not so sedate as she should 
have been, was wedded to a lord who was old, 


258 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


cruel, cross, and crabbed. A Gypsy band 
comes singing, telling of the joys of their life, 
and directly under the nose of the Lord of the 
Manor, they steal away his fair lady, who, 
however, is quite willing and anxious to be 
stolen. The Lord of the Manor calls for his 
staff and his cloak and his train of servants, 
and “ goes for to seek his Lady.” But in spite 
of all his pleadings and commands, the lady 
firmly decides to remain and live the life of a 
“ Raggle-Taggle Gypsy-oh.” 

It was a simple little ballad, but the cos¬ 
tumes and setting were perfect; which perhaps 
could not be said of the voices. 

The girls applauded and applauded. 

“You can’t take a curtain call,” said Sally, 
“ because you haven’t any curtain. Joyce, you 
just must do it over again.” 

This suggestion was greeted with so much 
enthusiasm that Joyce and her club were com¬ 
pelled to do “ The Raggle-Taggle Gypsies- 
oh ” a second time. 

Just as they were finishing the last song, 
some one pointed towards the back of the audi¬ 
ence. A red glow showed against the sky. 


JOYCE’S TURN 


259 


<< 


a 


u 


a 


“ Moonrise,” said some one. “ How 
lovely! ” 

“ The moon is hardly more than new to¬ 
night’,” said Miss McGinnery: 

Fire! ” said Sally. 

Forest fire! ” 

A thrill of fear ran around the group. 

“ No,” said Miss McGinnery, “ it’s too cen¬ 
tralized for that. Forest fire spreads.” 

“ It’s fire, though,” Sally pointed. “You 
can see the flames now.” 

Where can it be? ” asked Joyce. 

O my goodness!” said Sally, suddenly. 
“ The farmhouse! Poor Hilda! Come on, any 
one who isn’t afraid.” 

Stopping neither for permission nor a coat, 
she dashed madly off into the dark woods. As 
quickly as Joyce could scramble out of her 
costume, she followed her. 

It was indeed the farmhouse, and blazing 
badly by the time Joyce arrived. Several of 
the girls were ahead of her, including Patricia 
and Alice Redmond. Sally had already effi¬ 
ciently formed the girls into a line reaching 
from the well to the house. Buckets, filled at 


260 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


the well, were passed up the line and returned 
empty. Mr. Luger, the farmer, was nearest 
the fire and he threw bucket after bucket of 
water against the flames. 

“ It’s no use,” he said, just as Joyce dashed 
up to get in line. “ The old house is dry, and 
there’s no hope of saving it now. If the barns 
don’t catch from the sparks, I’ll consider my¬ 
self lucky. You girls might as well stop.” 

“ Is every one out of the house? ” asked 
Joyce, remembering the time her father’s 
stables had burned and Patricia’s horse was 
nearly forgotten. 

“ Oh, yes,” answered Mr. Luger. “ There’s 
only my wife and Hilda beside the two boys. 
Oh, yes, every one’s been out from the start.” 

“ Where is Hilda? ” asked Sally, running 
up. 

Mr. Luger pointed. Seated on a pile of 
quilts, softly weeping, sat a girl, possibly 
twelve years old. Sally ran towards her. Joyce 
turned to follow, but paused long enough to 
hear Gwendolyn ask: 

“ Why don’t you call out the fire depart¬ 
ment? ” 


JOYCE’S TURN 


261 


And Mr. Luger’s disgusted reply: 

“No fire engine this side of Logan.” 

“ Oh, Sally! ” Hilda looked up. “ Isn’t it 
terrible? ” 

“ Might be worse,” said Sally. “ Oh, hello, 
Joyce. This is Hilda Luger. I’m just tell¬ 
ing her she is lucky to be outside the house, and 
not inside.” 

“ Oh, Joe carried me out the very first 
thing,” said Hilda. “ He always does look 
after me.” 

Joyce looked quickly at Hilda, and noticed 
then for the first time that one leg was in a 
brace. 

“ Joe is Hilda’s brother,” explained Sally 
to Joyce. 

“ He took care of me, all right, but he only 
laughed when I asked him to save our collec¬ 
tion.” 

Sally looked a bit startled. 

“ Our bird collection? Isn’t it out? ” 

“ No,” said Hilda; “ I’m so sorry.” 

Sally looked again at the burning building. 

“ Don’t be foolish! ” Joyce seemed to read 
Sally’s thoughts. 


262 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Is the collection still in that small room? ” 
Sally asked Hilda. 

Hilda nodded. 

“ Sally! ” protested Joyce. “ You are not 
going into that building for any old bird col¬ 
lection.” 

“ It consists of years of effort and labor,” 
mocked Sally. “ Come on, Joyce, you can 
help me.” 

“ I think that would be foolish.” 

“No,” said Sally. “ Do you see that part 
over there? It’s not blazing at all. Well, the 
collection is in that room. I’ll break the win¬ 
dow, go in, and hand things out to you. It 
ought to be easy. Do let’s try it.” 

Joyce looked at the window to which Sally 
had pointed. It did seem to be comparatively 
free from the fire. Sally’s adventurous spirit 
thrilled Joyce. There were no firemen near to 
stop them. It sounded exciting. 

“All right,” said Joyce. 

“ Come on, down to the well, first. I’ll wet 
my ties, and then wrap them across my nose 
and mouth. Perhaps you’d better wet yours, 
too.” 


JOYCE’S TURN 263 

“Why are you doing that?” asked Hilda. 
“ There’s no fire in that room.” 

“ Don’t want to breathe any smoke,” ex¬ 
plained Sally. 

A few seconds later, Sally hurled a stone 
through the window pane. 

“ Hate to do that,” she said, “ but the fire 
will if I don’t, and the collection is worth that 
much to Hilda and me.” 

Agilely she climbed up and thrust her hand 
through the window to undo the lock. The 
sash stuck at first, and Sally groaned with the 
effort of opening it. When she did manage 
to raise it, a wave of smoke bellowed out. 

“ Oh, don’t go in there,” begged Joyce. 

“ That’s only a little draft of smoke,” said 
Sally, as she jumped down into the room. 

Books, snap-shots, nests—a great variety of 
things were hastily passed out to Joyce, who 
placed them carefully on the grass. 

“ Hurry,” mumbled Sally; “ there’s quite a 
bit more, and the smoke’s getting bad.” 

“ Do come out, Sally,” begged Joyce. 

“ Just a minute! ” 

Three more trips, and then, just as Sally 



264 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


was handing down the last book, she slumped 
suddenly and disappeared from view. 

Joyce did not wait to call for help but, 
quickly and easily as a cat, she was up and 
through the window, wrapping her wet tie over 
her nose as she went. 

The smoke in the room was much worse 
than it seemed from the outside. It billowed 
and waved about, half lit by the near-by flames. 
Even as Joyce came through the window, a 
long flame licked the door. 

Rather frightened, Joyce looked around. 
There, just below her in a huddled heap on the 
floor, lay Sally. Joyce spoke, but Sally did 
not answer. 

Bending low to keep away from the smoke, 
Joyce tugged and pulled at Sally. Slight as 
the Southern girl was, she was much heavier 
than Joyce had expected. But Joyce got her 
up and half across the sill just as the opposite 
wall burst into flame. Joyce crawled over 
Sally, jumped to the ground, and began tug¬ 
ging at her, calling loudly for help. Mr. 
Luger and several others came running. 

In a few seconds, Sally was lying on the 


JOYCE’S TURN 265 

grass near Hilda, a safe distance from the 
burning house. 

“ What happened? ” asked Miss McGin- 
nery, who came running up. 

Joyce explained in a shaky voice. 

“ You girls are old enough to show better 
judgment,” protested Miss McGinnery, who 
was shaken herself. 

“ Don’t scold them, please,” begged Hilda. 
“ They did it for me.” 

“ For you? ” 

“ Yes,” explained Hilda; “ every day, since 
camp started, Sally has come up here during 
her free time, and together we’ve made this 
collection. Of course, I can’t do much. You 
see, I’m lame. But I’ve mounted all the 
photographs, and things like that. Don’t you 
think it’s wonderful? ” 

Joyce, doing her best to revive Sally, who 
was still unconscious, said, “ That’s where she 
went on her mysterious trips.” 

“ Oh, she’s been awfully good to me. One 
night, a little while ago, she came up and took 
me down to camp to see her 4 stunt.’ Joe 
helped carry me. And then she left the camp- 


266 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

fire, all the fun, the marshmallow roast and 
everything, just to bring me home.” 

Miss McGinnery and Joyce looked at one 
another quickly. 

“ So that’s where she was,” said Joyce; “ but 
why didn’t she tell? ” 

Miss McGinnery shook her head. “ I can’t 
imagine. She’s as bad as Don Quixote.” 

“ Who’s talking about Don Quixote? ” Sally 
came out of her faint as suddenly as she had 
gone into it, and looked around her. 

Miss McGinnery sighed. “ We are glad 
you are perfectly all right again, Sally.” 

“ Oh, I’m fine. Who said something about 
Don Quixote? ” 

“ I did. Why?” 

On their way back to camp, after the fire 
was out, Sally explained to Joyce and Miss 
McGinnery why she had been so mysterious 
about Hilda. 

“You see, down home we have a club of five 
girls—oh, it’s very exclusive! Our aim is to 
find some one to help, but on our oath we are 
not allowed to tell what we are doing. Each 
girl tries to find some one sick or unhappy, 



JOYCE’S TURN 


267 


wherever she is, and help that person. We tell 
one another, but it never goes beyond our 
knowledge. We call ourselves 4 The Donkey 
Otties.’ ” 

“ Oh, I love that! ” 

“And I think in this case,” said Miss Mc- 
Ginnery, “ you were a bit of a 4 Donkey,’ not 
to tell Mrs. Pemberton the whole thing.” 

44 I did explain to her somewhat,” said Sally. 
44 And I wrote the girls, explained the situation, 
and asked to be allowed to tell this once. But 
now, of course, I won’t have to.” 

44 But who took that money? ” asked Joyce. 
44 1 knew it wasn’t you, of course, and I really 
don’t think Gwendolyn did.” 

44 No, Mrs. Pemberton feels almost certain 
that the Gypsies came back and found it, 
somehow.” 

And the very next day, a letter came for 
Mrs. Pemberton from the constable of Logan. 
The Gypsy leader had confessed to taking the 
missing money. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“ FAR PLACES” 

Joyce rushed into the Hospital Tent early 
the next morning. 

“ Oh, Sally, listen! Guess what happened 
at breakfast this morning.” 

Sally sat up. 

“ Tell me, Joyce. I’m just not going to 
stay in here another second. Gwendolyn can 
have her old Hospital Tent any day she wants 
it. Just because I got a tiny whiff of smoke, 
and flopped, I’m not sick! I think Ginny was 
mean to insist on my staying in here.” 

“ Maybe she’ll join you,” said Joyce. 

“ Joyce, what do you mean? Tell me.” 

44 At breakfast this morning, Miss McGin- 
nery suddenly fainted for no reason at all. 
Mrs. Pemberton was announcing that some ex¬ 
plorer was going to give us a lecture or talk 
here at camp-fire to-morrow evening. Sud¬ 
denly Miss McGinnery stood up, gasped and 

268 


“ FAR PLACES ” 


269 


slid down in her chair. Nobody knows what 
caused it.” 

“ Is she all right, now? ” asked Sally. 

“ I don’t know. I think they are bringing 
her here.” 

So they were. Every one was ordered out 
of the tent except Sally, who had been placed 
there after her experience at the Luger fire. 

But Sally was dismissed at noon. She came 
racing to Tent Joy. 

“ Welcome home! ” said Patricia. 

“ I’m glad to get here, away from that old 
Hospital Tent. But listen-” 

“ Didn’t you like the Hospital Tent?” in¬ 
terrupted Gwendolyn. “ I just loved it there.” 

“ Well, I hated it,” said Sally. “ Do listen, 
girls-” 

“ I’m too busy to listen,” again Gwendolyn 
interrupted. “ Helen and I are just finishing 
our bird collection. Has to be done to-mor¬ 
row, all ready for Guest Week, you know.” 

“ That’s right,” Sally paused, “ guests will 
be coming any day, now. Thursday starts 
Guest Week. This is Sunday. How these 
past weeks have flown! ” 




270 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

Although Gwendolyn did not wait to hear 
Sally’s news, the other girls were eager. 

“ Perhaps it’s just as well she’s gone. May¬ 
be Ginny wouldn’t want every one to know, 
but of course they will know.” 

“ Oh, Sally, tell us,” begged Joyce. 

“ You know Miss McGinnery fainted at 
breakfast this morning.” 

“ Yes, of course, we know.” 

“ But you don’t know why, and that’s what 
I’m going to tell you. Five years ago, she was 
engaged to a young man named Robert Gary. 
She was poor and he was poor, and so they 
couldn’t get married. Then he had an oppor¬ 
tunity to go to South America. He wanted 
her to marry him and go with him, but she 
wouldn’t. Her father was old and alone and 
she wouldn’t go off so far and leave him, but 
she promised Robert Gary that she would wait 
for him until he came home, and then she would 
marry him. He expected to be gone for two 
years. The year after he left, her father died. 
Then Miss McGinnery heard, indirectly, that 
Robert Gary was dead. She didn’t believe it. 
She waited a whole year. She never had a 


“ FAR PLACES ” 


271 


letter from him all that time, and he never 
came back! At the end of the year, she de¬ 
cided he was dead. She just couldn’t bear to 
stay any longer in that town, so she moved 
away. Winters, she teaches astronomy at the 
University of Wisconsin, summers she comes 
up here with Mrs. Pemberton. She said that 
at first she used to see persons that looked like 
Robert Gary, but of course it never was he. 
This summer she decided absolutely that he 
must be dead. And then, this morning, Mrs. 
Pemberton announces that an explorer will 
lecture to us here, to-morrow evening, and his 
name is Robert Gary! Isn’t that romantic 
—after all these years? ” 

“ Poor Miss McGinnery,” said Joyce. “No 
wonder she fainted! ” 

“ Do you suppose it can be the same per¬ 
son? ” asked Patricia. 

“ That’s what Miss McGinnery is worried 

•j 

about—she fears that she’ll be disappointed 
again.” 

“ Oh, I am anxious to see him,” said Joyce. 

“ Well,” said Sally, “ he won’t be here until 
to-morrow, likely not until evening. Miss 


272 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


McGinnery says she’s going to keep out of his 
way until after the lecture, because if it is he, 
she might spoil his talk.” 

“ Does Mrs. Pemberton know about it? ” 

“ Yes, she does. But, exciting as all this is, 
there is much to be done before to-morrow 
evening. By Tuesday, everything must be 
ready for Guest Week. People always begin 
arriving on Wednesday. Thursday and Fri¬ 
day we have our water races, Field Day, and 
4 stunt.’ Saturday, we have the bird exhibit 
and crown the Featherhead, and then—we 
pack up and say good-bye.” 

“ Oh, Sally, you never did get your free day, 
did you? ” said Patricia. 

“No, but it doesn’t matter so much now. I 
wanted to take Hilda to Logan. The poor 
child says she’s never seen a real town. You 
know how much of a town Logan is, but I 
thought it would be a real treat for her. It 
will look bigger to her than it does to us.” 

“ Perhaps if Ray comes, we can take her 
then,” said Joyce. 

“ Oh, maybe we can make a picnic of it,” 
said Sally. “ Lee can drive us all. That de- 


“ FAR PLACES ” 


273 


pends, however, on which car Daddy brings. 
And Patricia, don’t you dare forget that you 
are to call Lee the chauffeur.” 

“ I’ll remember,” said Patricia, with a smile. 

“ Joyce, you are going to be extra busy,” 
said Sally, “ for they have selected the ‘ Haggle 
Taggle Gypsies-oh ’ to be presented during 
Guest Week.” 

“ Oh, no! ” said Joyce. “ I thought Helen 
Trowbridge would have that with her pageant. ’ ’ 

“ Plow do you know, Sally? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Miss McGinnery told me. She said that 
it was hard to decide this year, that Helen’s 
was attractive, but that her costumes were not 
camp-made, and that Joyce’s really had more 
character. Yours and mine were clever, she 
said, but Joyce’s was the most appropriate.” 

“ Joyce, I’m awfully glad,” said Patricia, 
heartily. 

“ And to-morrow I must work like fury. 
Hilda, bless her heart, insists that the bird col¬ 
lection is all mine. Of course, I really did 
gather it, but I didn’t intend to claim it, but 
Hilda insists. So, now, I’ll have to work hard 
to get it ready and on exhibit.” 


274 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ We’ll both help you,” offered Joyce. 

Patricia and Sally were busy helping Joyce 
sort out her photographs the next day when 
Gwendolyn and Helen Trowbridge entered 
the tent. 

“ Oh,” said Gwendolyn, “ what are you do¬ 
ing? ” 

“ Arranging my bird collection,” said Sally, 
smiling. 

“ That isn’t yours,” said Helen Trowbridge. 

“ No? ” asked Sally. “ Why not? ” 

“ It belongs to that farmer girl.” 

“ Does it? I collected it, and I rescued it 
from the fire—at the risk of my life.” Sally 
struck a mock heroic pose. 

“ You are too silly, Sally,” said Gwendolyn 
in her supercilious way. 

“ Silly-Sally, Silly-Sally,” chanted Sally. 
“ Really I ought to be able to make some sort 
of a song out of that.” 

Helen Trowbridge stared at her a minute, 
then turned again to the collection. 

“ Surely you don’t intend to enter this in 
the camp competition? ” 

“ Why not? ” said Sally, again. 


“ FAR PLACES ” 


275 


“ It isn’t fair! ” 

“Why isn’t it fair?” spoke up Patricia. 
Her eyes were flashing. “ Sally gathered 
every nest here, took every picture, did the 
whole thing herself, just to give pleasure to a 
sick child.” 

“ She didn’t develop those pictures, nor 
paste them in that book.” 

“ No, she didn’t,” said Patricia. “ She let 
Hilda do that.” 

“ Whoever Hilda may be,” sneered Helen 
Trowbridge. She was angry, too. 

“ Hilda is the little farmer girl,” said Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ Just about the sort of company I’d expect 
Sally Orcutt to associate with. But if this 
Hilda person has done half the work, it isn’t 
fair to let Sally claim the collection.” 

“ You didn’t develop your own films, either, 
although perhaps you did have energy enough 
to paste them in your book. Anyhow, it surely 
is a lot more fair than some of the things you 
girls have done with your collection.” 

“ What do you mean? ” Helen Trowbridge 
turned on her, thoroughly angry, now. 


276 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“You know what I mean, Helen.” 

Helen stiffened visibly. “ Miss Trowbridge, 
if you please.” 

“ Oh, indeed, Miss Trowbridge.” Patri¬ 
cia’s temper was in full swing now. She for¬ 
got the other girls, forgot her promise to 
Grandma Parsons, forgot even her plan to 
keep her identity a secret, forgot perhaps even 
some of the wholesome lessons she had learned 
in Westcott, and became for the moment the 
old imperial Patricia. 

“ Well, wasn’t it too bad that Miss Trow¬ 
bridge was refused admittance to Miss Brent’s 
school last year? ” 

Helen’s face went suddenly white. “ What 
do you know about Miss Brent’s school? Who 

told you anything of the sort? Why, I-” 

Helen was struggling to retain her haughty 
manner and was having difficulty in doing 
so. 

“ Roy Walker was the person who told me.” 
Patricia’s temper was still flaring. “As to 
Miss Brent’s school, I have gone there for four 
years now and expect to finish there this com¬ 
ing year.” 



“ FAR PLACES ” 


277 


Helen stood staring at Patricia, her mouth 
open. 

“ Are you Patricia Strickland—of New 
York? ” 

Patricia smiled. “ Yes, New York isn’t 
exactly a small town, is it? ” 

Helen Trowbridge whirled suddenly on 
Gwendolyn. “ You told me she came from 
Westcott, Minnesota.” 

“ I—I thought she did.” Gwendolyn looked 
actually frightened. 

“ Well, well, well,” spoke up Sally, “ mis¬ 
takes will happen now and then, even in the 
best families. Patricia, I do wish I had a 
temper like yours. You are simply—magnifi¬ 
cent. Magnificent! No other word for it. 
This is what I do when I get mad,” and Sally 
danced around, beating the air with her fists, 
making an utterly ridiculous picture of herself. 

Joyce laughed outright, and even Patricia, 
angry as she was, was forced to smile. But 
neither Gwendolyn nor Helen saw anything 
funny in Sally’s maneuvers; nor did they 
realize that she was trying to pour oil on 
troubled waters. 




278 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Helen Trowbridge turned to the prancing 
Sally. 44 And who are you? ” 

Sally paused. “ Do you want me to tell you, 
really? ” 

“A nothing—a nobody!” Helen had lost 
complete control of herself. She realized that 
she had made a serious blunder, and felt she 
must vent her anger somehow. “ Nothing but 
a little whiffet! ” 

“ I’m not very big,” admitted Sally, assum¬ 
ing a sorrowful tone, “ but then 4 good things 
come in small packages,’ you know—also poi¬ 
son,” she added with a comical face. 

44 1 can’t see why a girl like Patricia Strick¬ 
land should associate with you. No wonder I 
thought she didn’t know much.” 

44 You are too sweet!” Sally’s eyes were 
flashing a bit now, although her voice was still 
calm. 44 But really, I feel, my dear Miss 
Trowbridge, that you have much to learn.” 

44 All right. Let me learn it now. Tell us 
who you are. No one around camp seems to 
know.” 

Sally sighed. 44 Truly I’d like to tell you, 
but I’m afraid that two blows the same day in 



“ FAR PLACES ” 


279 


the same place might be too much for you. 
But it is a temptation.” 

“Humph!” scoffed Helen Trowbridge. 
“ Nobody would believe you if you did say you 
were anybody.” 

“ Well, well, well.” Sally still kept her 
temper. “ In that case, why waste my breath? 
I tell you what I’ll do,” suddenly. “ I’ll let 
my cousin, Lee Davis, tell you all about me 
when he comes. He just adores that sort of 
thing.” 

Helen Trowbridge turned her back on Sally. 

“ Coming with me, Gwendolyn? ” Then, 
with a forced, sweet smile, “I’m sorry I was 
so rude, Patricia. Do come and see me in my 
tent.” 

She was gone, Gwendolyn with her. 

“ Whew! ” Sally sat down abruptly. “ I’m 
glad she left. I couldn’t have held on to my 
temper much longer.” 

Joyce blinked. “ Let’s go back to the bird 
collection. I—I’m sort of—stunned! ” 

Patricia and Sally both laughed at the ex¬ 
pression on Joyce’s face. 

“ All right,” said Sally. “ And now, I just 


280 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


must win this prize. Do you girls think I’m 
unfair? ” 

“ No, indeed,” said Joyce, hotly. 

“ But I would explain to the judges the 
whole situation,” said Patricia. 

That evening, Robert Gary gave his lecture 
on South America. Patricia, Joyce, and Sally 
were unduly eager to see him. They were not 
disappointed in him. He was tall, lean, 
bronzed, with a magnetic smile and a merry 
twinkle in his grey eyes. 

Mrs. Pemberton had suggested that he talk 
in the dining-hall, but he requested that he be 
allowed to speak at camp-fire meeting. 

“ I’ll feel more at home out under the stars,” 
he said, “ and though I shall be looking at 
the Northern Dipper instead of the Southern 
Cross, I shall be more at ease than I ever could 
be inside four walls.” 

His talk was a talk, and not a lecture. He 
told the girls of many hardships, of traveling 
over narrow mountain passes on mule-back, or 
rather, burro-back; of going higher, ever 
higher, into the Andes. 

“ And one year, we were caught high up in 


“ FAR PLACES ” 


t 


281 


the Andes and were unable to get down to 
lower levels. We suffered hardships untold, 
and but for some friendly Indians, would have 
perished. I myself was unable to travel for 
nearly a year.” 

Sally squeezed Joyce’s hand in excitement. 
This was surely the right man. 

“ These Indians,” Robert Gary went on, 
“ are descendants of the old Inca tribes—tribes 
that were cultured, peaceful, and gentle. Their 
descendants retain many of these character¬ 
istics. The ruins of the Inca cities are won¬ 
derfully interesting. Too bad there is not 
more left to tell of these old days aside from 
the ruins of their magnificent temples. Gold 
was plentiful among them. It is a common 
legend that the Incas had some secret, hidden 
source of gold—gold in a pure state—that no 
one since has been able to find.” 

“I’m going down there to explore,” Sally 
whispered to Joyce. 

“ I thought you were going to the North 
Pole,” Joyce whispered back. 

“ That was last month,” said Sally. 

“ Every one knows, of course, that Spaniards 




282 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

conquered this land, conquered this people and 
almost exterminated them in a cruel and heart¬ 
less fashion. So greedy were the Spaniards 
for gold that they even desecrated temples to 
obtain it. One story is told of the capture and 
torture of an Inca prince. He was imprisoned 
in a small room. He promised his captors if 
they would give him his freedom that he would 
have his subjects fill the room with gold as 
high as the mark he made. To make this mark, 
he stood on tiptoe and reached his arms as far 
above his head as they would go. The Span¬ 
iards agreed. The Inca prince kept his word. 
The room was filled with golden goblets, 
plates, gold dishes of all sorts, for it was com¬ 
mon among the Incas and not especially valu¬ 
able. The Inca prince kept his word, but the 
Spaniards did not keep theirs. When they 
had their room full of gold, they fulfilled their 
part of the bargain—by killing the Inca 
prince! ” 

When the lecture was finished, Sally blinked 
at Joyce. 

“ It’s hard to come back to earth, isn’t it? 
Wasn’t that just like a—a fairy story? ” 


“ FAR PLACES 55 


283 


“ And the time has just flown. There goes 
the bugle.” 

All the girls hurried to their tents, all but 
Sally, Joyce, and Patricia. They loitered on 
the way, hoping to see Miss McGinnery meet 
this man, anxious to see if he really was the 
right Robert Gary. 

“ Oh, he must be,” said Sally. “ You heard 
what he said about being lost for a whole year.” 

“ It is, Sally, it is,” Miss McGinnery’s voice 
came out of the darkness. “ And now I’m 
afraid to meet him. It’s been so long. It’s-” 

Sally darted away into the darkness. In two 
minutes she was back, followed by a bewildered 
young man. Sally paused a short distance 
from the other girls. 

“ Do you know much about the stars? ” she 
asked him. 

“ A little.” The man was still puzzled. 

“ Is that Cassiopeia up there? ” she pointed. 

He looked up. “ Yes, over there,” pointing 
also. 

Quickly, noiselessly, Sally slipped from his 
side and pushed Miss McGinnery into her 
place. 



284 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“ Yes, that is Cassiopeia, and that-” he 

turned to look down at the dark-eyed girl to 
whom he had been talking, then paused as 
though all breath had suddenly left him. His 
arm slowly dropped. He gazed and gazed, 
speechless. Miss McGinnery gazed back. 

“ Bob! ” she said, at last. 

“ Olive! Oh, Olive! At last, at last, at 
last! ” He held out his arms. 

“ This ”—said Sally, giving the other girls 
a push—“ is where we exit.” 

She whispered, but she could have shouted 
aloud, and quite likely neither Robert Gary 
nor Miss McGinnery would have heard her. 



CHAPTER XIX 

Patricia’s mistake 

“ To-morrow will be Wednesday,” said 
Sally. “ People will begin to come, then, to 
be here all ready and proper for Thursday.” 

“ Where do most of them stay? ” asked Pat¬ 
ricia. 

“ Over at Gulliver Lodge.” 

“ That’s what I thought. Mother and Dad 
expect to be here early Thursday morning, and 
they’ll stay at Gulliver Lodge.” 

“ I do wonder if Ray is coming,” said Joyce. 
“ He has just never said whether he really 
would be here or not.” 

“ I hope he comes,” said Sally. “ He was 
almost as nice as you are, Joyce. Now, Lee 
will arrive, I should judge, about Thursday 
noon.” 

“ How can you tell so accurately, when he is 
driving a car? ” asked Patricia. 

“ Thursday noon is the proper time to ar- 

285 


286 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


rive, and you can depend on Lee to do the 
proper thing.” 

Joyce looked worried. “ I’ll be afraid to 
meet him, then.” 

“You will be?” Sally looked surprised. 
“ Why? ” 

“ Didn’t you see me drop that plate of cake 
at dinner to-night? That was because I was 
sitting next to Mrs. Pemberton. I always do 
the wrong thing whenever I try extra hard to 
do the right.” 

Sally laughed merrily. “ Then when Lee 
comes, don’t try so hard.” 

“ I wonder what we’ll do at camp-fire to¬ 
night,” said Patricia. “ Miss McGinnery 
won’t be there.” 

“ That’s right,” said Sally. “ She and 
Robert Gary went off for the whole day. He 
said if there was a diamond ring to be had 
within a hundred miles, he’d find it. I do wish 
they’d come back. I’d love to hear more about 
those Inca cities.” 

“ Perhaps he’ll stay through Guest Week,” 
suggested Joyce. 

“ Oh, I wish he would! ” said Sally. 


PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


287 


“ Look! There’s a car coming in now,” said 
Patricia. 

“ Let’s go ask him,” said Sally, 

But before they reached the incoming car, 
Miss Adams called to Sally and Joyce. 

“ You go on and ask him,” Sally said to Pat¬ 
ricia. “ I forgot that Miss Adams asked me 
to see her this evening. She said she wanted 
Joyce too. I don’t know what it’s about— 
camp-fire, maybe.” 

The car that drove in was not Robert Gary’s 
roadster but a long grey touring-car. Patri¬ 
cia halted when she discovered her mistake. 
The driver of the car stopped it abruptly, 
leaned out and motioned imperially to Patricia. 

“ Here,” he said abruptly, “ is this Camp 
Ojibawa? ” 

Patricia advanced haughtily and glared at 
him. “ Naturally,” she said. 

The young man glared back. 

“ They certainly do not teach you little girls 
good manners,” he remarked curtly. 

“ To whom do you think you are speaking? ” 
Patricia’s voice was icy. 

“ I’m talking to you,” he snapped. 


288 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Sir,” Patricia’s air was most regal, “ I’m 
not accustomed to having chauffeurs address 
me in such an impudent manner. I’ll-” 

Patricia was becoming truly angry, and so 
was the young man. A flush dyed his cheeks. 
He was just starting to interrupt Patricia 
when a shout of glee sounded behind her. 
There was a whirlwind rush past her, and Sally 
pulled open the rear door of the car and flung 
herself inside. 

“Daddy! Daddy Orcutt! Oh, oh! I’m 
glad to see you. And Granny. Dear, dearest 
Granny, give me a big hug.” 

Then, turning abruptly, she leaned out. 

“ Patricia, this is my cousin, Lee Davis. 
You did it wonderfully” 

“ I—what? ” gasped Patricia. 

“ How did you know it was Lee? ” asked 
Sally. 

“ I didn’t,” said Patricia. “ I really thought 
he was a chauffeur, and a very impudent one.” 

Sally shrieked with laughter. “Now will 
you be good, Lee? ” 

Her cousin merely glared from Patricia to 
Sally, and back to Patricia again. 



PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 289 

Dr. Orcutt left the car and held out his hand 
to Patricia with a smile. 

“ I don’t blame you for mistaking my 
nephew. Pie was quite impudent. I was 
about to speak up, but I thought you were 
taking care of yourself beautifully. Forgive 
us, Miss Patricia. As usual, in her introduc¬ 
tion Sally has eliminated last names, but no 
doubt you are Miss Strickland.” 

Patricia held out her hand. She knew in¬ 
stantly why Sally so dearly loved her father. 
A truer type of old-fashioned Southern gentle¬ 
man would have been hard to find. He was 
tall, rather lean, had iron-grey hair, and grey 
eyes that twinkled merrily. 

“ I needn’t have been so horrid, either,” ad¬ 
mitted Patricia. 

“ You were quite right. Lee has very poor 
manners sometimes.” Mrs. Orcutt had joined 
her son. A dainty, tiny woman was Mrs. Or¬ 
cutt, who did not reach nearly to the doctor’s 
shoulder. She was immaculate despite the 
long, dusty ride she had just taken. 

But Lee neither apologized nor left the car, 
just sat sulkily behind the wheel. 


290 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“Naughty boy! Aren’t you ’shamed?” 
Sally teased him. 

Lee scowled and said nothing. 

“ Joyce, oh Joyce,” Sally called. “ Do come 
here. See if you can cheer up this sulky cousin 
of mine.” 

Joyce came running. “ Sally, you are heart¬ 
less.” 

She held out her hand to the young man. 
“ Do come and look around camp. Evening 
camp-fire is ready, and you must all come 
down.” 

At her invitation, Lee got agilely from be¬ 
hind the wheel. 

“ I’d be most happy to go with you.” Mean¬ 
ingly* he turned his back on Patricia and Sally. 

Joyce looked up at the young man by her 
side as they walked towards the camp-fire. 
She had been duly introduced to Granny and 
Dr. Orcutt, and while Sally and Patricia were 
taking them to see Mrs. Pemberton at the head 
tent, Joyce and Lee Davis started for the 
camp-fire. Lee Davis was tall, fully as tall as 
Dr. Orcutt; his face was a handsome one as 
far as features counted, but the expression w r as 


PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


291 


sulky; whether it was habitually so or not, 
Joyce could not decide. 

“ Do you like it here? ” He smiled down at 
Joyce, and his smile was very winsome. 

“ Oh, I love it!” Joyce smiled back, and 
promptly stumbled over a protruding root. 

“ There,” she said as she sat down abruptly, 
“ I knew I’d do something like this.” 

Lee Davis’s laugh was contagious. “ Are 
you a professional tumbler? ” he asked, as he 
helped her to her feet. “ What made you so 
sure you’d fall? ” 

“ Oh, not necessarily fall,” Joyce brushed 
the dirt off her skirt, “ but whenever I try to 
behave beautifully, I always do something 
dreadful.” 

“ Nothing very dreadful about stubbing 
your toe. But why are you 4 behaving beau¬ 
tifully ’ to-night? ” 

44 Oh, because you’re here,” said Joyce hon¬ 
estly. 44 Sally said-” 

Lee’s face darkened suddenly. 44 What has 
Sally been saying? ” 

44 Why—why-” Joyce hesitated. 44 She 

just said that you were very—proper.” 




292 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Nothing disgraceful about that, is there? ” 

“ No, oh no! But, you see, I’m not.” 

“ No doubt your friend, Miss Strickland, 
is” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Joyce, loyally. “ That is, 
Patricia can be—oh, ’most anything. She’s a 
wonderful girl. She’s unusual.” 

“ How about yourself? Aren’t you a bit 
unusual? ” 

u Me? Oh, no! I’m just the common or 
garden variety of girl.” 

“ Well,” said Lee Davis, looking down at 
her, “I’m beginning to think I like garden 
variety.” 

Joyce dropped her eyes suddenly. 

“ I do hope you’ll enjoy camp-fire,” she 
changed the subject abruptly. “We had the 
most wonderful man here last night. He’s an 
explorer or something like that—spent nearly 
five years in South America. Sally and I are 
going down there as soon as we finish school.” 

Lee Davis laughed. “ Last time I talked to 
Sally, she was planning a life on the coral isles 
of the South Pacific.” 

“ She does rather jump around,” admitted 



PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


293 


Joyce. “ Last month she was planning to go 
to the North Pole.” 

“Will you two stop talking about me!” 
Sally raced up to them. 

“ Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Orcutt,” 

\ 

teased Lee. “ We can find plenty to talk 
about without referring to you.” 

“ Perhaps,” said Sally. “ But you were 
talking about me. I could tell by the way you 
both jumped at the sound of my voice. But 
I’ll forgive you this time.” 

“ Thanks,” said Lee, drily. “ Would you 
like to know what we were saying? ” 

“ Yes,” said Sally, eagerly. 

“ I thought so,” he teased. “Well, I’ll 
never tell you.” 

“ Point one for Lee,” said Sally. “ I came 
down to tell you that Dr. Orcutt thinks 
Granny is too tired to stay to-night. Granny 
doesn’t think so. She’s all for spending the 
evening, dear old Granny. However, they are 
going on over to the Lodge, and Dr. Orcutt 
sent me down to get his chauffeur . Point one 
for Sally and Patricia.” 

Lee glowered at his cousin. 


294 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ You do take defeat so hard, Lee. Come 
along. Daddy is waiting.” 

“ What’s on the program for to-morrow? ” 
asked Dr. Orcutt, as he entered the car. 
“ Anything special? ” 

“ No,” said Sally, “ not here at camp. Our 
program begins on Thursday. But, oh, 
Daddy, do you suppose—there’s a little lame 
girl up on the hill—she’s never seen a town—I 
thought-” 

“ A lame girl? ” interrupted Dr. Orcutt. 
“ What’s her trouble? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Sally. “ I believe she 
had a fall when she was little.” 

“ I’d like to see her,” said Dr. Orcutt. 

“ I thought maybe we could plan a picnic 
for her to-morrow. Drive her down to Logan, 
let her see a real town, once.” 

“ Logan—a real town! ” hooted Lee. “ Sally, 
have your wits deserted you? ” 

“ It’s the realest town in this part of the 
country, anyway.” 

“ They don’t even know the days of the 
week,” said Lee. “ We stopped there for gas. 
Your father got to talking to the old man 





Lee glowered at his cousin. —Page 293 , 












PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


295 


who keeps the garage, and just to be conver¬ 
sational, asked how often the trains left. The 
old chap said: 

Wal, let’s see. This is Tuesday. One 
went down yistiday, which was Sunday, so 
guess there won’t be no more till Friday.’ ” 

Lee’s mimicry was perfect, and the girls 
shouted with laughter. 

“ Why, yes, Sally,” said Dr. Orcutt, “ I 
think we can arrange a trip to Logan. Mrs. 
Pemberton will allow you three girls to go, 
no doubt. Granny and I will see to having a 
lunch put up at the Lodge. You speak to this 
little lame girl, and we’ll be over early in the 
morning.” 

The car purred softly away, and the girls 
stood waving. 

“ Oh, Patricia,” said Sally gleefully, “ Lee 
is most gorgeously angry with you.” 

Patricia tossed her head. “ It was all his 
own fault. He certainly acted like a chauffeur 
—a very impudent one.” 

“ Why didn’t you tell us he was so good- 
looking? ” asked Joyce quickly. 

“ He is handsome,” admitted Sally judicially. 


296 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


“And the one thing that absolutely consumes 
him with anger is to have me call him Apollo.” 

“ But Apollo was blond, wasn’t he? ” asked 
Joyce. “ Your cousin is extremely dark.” 

“ I suppose it isn’t appropriate, but it makes 
Lee just as angry as though it were; and that’s 
the main point.” 

Wednesday was a perfect summer day. 
Hilda’s face was flushed with excitement, as 

her brother carried her out and placed her in 

* 

the car beside Granny Orcutt. Joyce was in 
the front seat beside Lee. He had been barely 
civil to Patricia, and Patricia had pointedly 
ignored him; but to Joyce he chatted with en¬ 
thusiasm. Granny and Dr. Orcutt made 
Hilda comfortable between them, while Pat¬ 
ricia and Sally occupied the chair seats of the 
car. The lunch hamper was strapped to the side. 

Dr. Orcutt soon drew Hilda gently and un¬ 
obtrusively into conversation about her lame¬ 
ness, its causes and symptoms. Sally was well 
pleased. In her inmost heart, she had hoped 
and rather planned that this should happen, 
well knowing that Plilda would respond to 
Dr. Orcutt’s kindness and gentleness. She 


PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


297 


leaned forward and interrupted the conversa¬ 
tion between Joyce and Lee Davis. 

“ Say, you two, there are some more of us 
back here.” 

“ Oh,” Joyce turned around, “ I’d forgotten 
about you two. Isn’t that dreadful? But your 
cousin was explaining all about driving. I 
know nothing about it. Horses are the only 
automobiles we own.” 

“You and Granny Orcutt should be fast 
friends at that rate,” said Lee. 

“ Lee, are you punning? ” accused Sally. 

“ Not guilty! ” insisted Lee. 

“ If you are looking for an instructor in the 
art of driving a car,” said Sally, “ Lee is cer¬ 
tainly the right person to teach you. He is a 
marvelous chauffeur .” 

Lee’s face darkened. 

“You ought to turn him loose on the Blun¬ 
der-Bus,” suggested Patricia. 

The girls all shrieked with merriment, and 
all began at once to tell of their trip to Gulli¬ 
ver Lodge. In spite of himself, Lee had to 
forget his injury and join in the general mirth 
over “ King Tut’s Chariot.” 


298 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Did you say your brother was coming for 
Guest Week? ” He turned to Joyce. 

“ I hope so,” said Joyce. 

“ So do I,” added Sally. “ He is almost as 
nice as Joyce.” 

“ We all hope so,” said Patricia with a mali¬ 
cious twinkle in her eye. “ He’s a real chap, 
is Ray Hunter.” 

“ Thanks! ” said Lee, understanding Patri¬ 
cia’s implied criticism. 

“You know,” said Sally sagely, “ I am be¬ 
ginning to be jealous of you two. It has al¬ 
ways been my privilege to quarrel with Lee. 
He does it so beautifully.” 

Sally’s impudence brought smiles to all 
faces, even to Dr. Orcutt’s and Granny Or- 
cutt’s. The atmosphere was slightly cleared, 
but there was still that feeling of antagonism 
between Patricia and Lee. 

Instead of going directly to Logan, Lee 
drove several miles out of the way, for Hilda 
was so patently enjoying the novelty of an 
automobile ride. They stopped and had a pic¬ 
nic lunch before they reached Logan. 

“ This is the queerest country,” said Patri- 


PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


299 


cia. “You drive for miles through the most 
desolate country, and then, quite suddenly you 
find a beauty spot like this.” 

She indicated the bit of woods before them. 

“ I love camp and the lake,” agreed Sally, 
“ but I would hate to live here always.” 

Hilda’s eyes were wide. “ Oh, I think this 
country is wonderful! ” 

The rest of the day, Hilda was almost 
speechless except for an occasional, “ It’s won¬ 
derful! ” 

Logan was to her a marvelous city, although 
to the others it was a dingy little town con¬ 
sisting of one main street, with two garages, 
a “ movie ” theatre, an ice-cream parlor, and a 
general store. An hour or so exhausted all 
the available “ sights.” 

“ Now I think we’d better take Hilda home,” 
said Dr. Orcutt. “Are you tired, Hilda? ” 

“ Some,” admitted the little girl, “ but it’s 
been wonderful.” 

And so Hilda, gorgeously happy, with a 
box of candy under one arm, was carried 
gently back to her room, and the person who 
carried her was, not Dr. Orcutt, but Lee Davis. 


300 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Poor young one! ” he said, as he climbed 
back behind the wheel. “ I say, how about go¬ 
ing back to the Lodge for a game of tennis, 
and maybe a swim? ” 

“ Can we be back here at five o’clock? ” 
asked Joyce. 

“ Of course,” answered Dr. Orcutt. 

Hut they were not back at five, and it took 
Lee’s best driving to get them back at six in 
time for dinner, for when they reached the 
Lodge, the first person to be seen, calmly rock¬ 
ing in a chair on the front porch, was Grandma 
Parsons. 

And then, after introductions and joyous 
greetings were over, Granny Orcutt sat her¬ 
self down to visit with Grandma Parsons. 
Dr. Orcutt insisted that his mother must be 
tired, that she should go to her room and rest, 
but Granny only smiled affectionately at her 
son, patted him on the shoulder as though he 
were about fifteen years of age, insisted that 
she was as fresh as a cricket, and sent him 
away. Then she and Grandma Parsons im¬ 
mediately immersed themselves in talk. 

“ Gracious! ” said Patricia, as she came up 


PATRICIA’S MISTAKE 


301 


to them an hour later, after a game of tennis 
in which she and Sally had beaten Joyce and 
Lee Davis, “ are you two still talking? What 
are you finding to talk about? ” 

“ It s a case of love at first sight,” teased 
Sally. “ Come on, Patricia. I’ll be ready for 
that swim before either you or Joyce.” 


CHAPTER XX 


GUEST WEEK 

Thursday afternoon, Guest Week officially 
opened. That afternoon was to be spent in a 
display of horsemanship. Sally, Patricia, and 
Joyce were entered in most of the events. 

There was a great deal of excitement as ear 
after car drove in. Most of the girls had 
guests. Alice Redmond’s mother and father 
and brother all came; Pauline Selby’s aunt and 
two cousins arrived early; Helen Trowbridge’s 
mother and brother came; Gwendolyn expected 
both her mother and father, but only her 
mother arrived. When Lee Davis drove in, 
Grandma Parsons was in the back of the car 
with Granny Orcutt. 

“ I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed meeting 
any one so much,” Grandma Parsons confided 
to Joyce. 

“ Didn’t Ray come? ” asked Joyce, feeling 
very disappointed. 

“Not yet, anyway.” 

302 


GUEST WEEK 


303 


“ Do you think he will? ” asked Joyce. 

“Perhaps; I had a wire from Molly, say¬ 
ing to expect her to-night.” 

“ Surely Dad is coming?” Patricia joined 
them. 

“All your mother said was: ‘Will arrive 
seven-thirty Gulliver Lodge to-night/ ” 

“ Well, at any rate Mother is coming,” said 
Patricia, striving not to be disappointed. 

There were several events on the afternoon 
program. To start with, there was a short 
dash down the beach on horseback. Joyce 
won easily. Then there was a relay race, a 
mounting contest in which Patricia led, and 
fancy riding. The final event was “ Musical 
Chairs.” 

There were ten girls entered in this, but only 
nine horses. The horses were all lined up in 
a circle facing the lake, the girls in a circle 
about them. Miss McGinnery, on one side, 
played the violin. The minute the music 
started, the girls began to march; the minute 
the music stopped, and it was liable to stop in 
the middle of a bar, there was a mad dash to 
see which nine of the ten girls would be able 


300 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


Ruth had to leave for home yesterday, and our 
club is one short.” 

Patricia hesitated. “ I’m sorry, Helen, but 
I expect Mother and Father. I’m just going 
to the Lodge now in the hope that they’ll be 
there.” 

Helen turned away reluctantly. 

“ So sweet of her to ask you and me, Joyce,” 
said Sally with a giggle, as the car swung out 
to the road. 

“ She couldn’t be bothered with scrubs like 
us,” said Joyce. 

“ Who says you two are scrubs? ” asked Lee 
Davis from the front seat. 

“ Helen Trowbridge does.” 

“ Who is she? ” 

“ The girl who was just here. Miss Helen 
Trowbridge.” 

“ Indeed! ” Lee’s face grew dark. 

“ That’s the way I feel about her, too,” said 
Patricia involuntarily. 

Lee Davis gave her the first look of approval 
he had ever bestowed upon her. 

“ Any one who says Sally Orcutt is a 
scrub-” began the young man. 



GUEST WEEK 


307 


“ Oh, Lee, hush! ” warned Sally. “ If you 
get started on family connections, we’ll never 
get back in time for the pageant. Save your 
little speech and deliver it to Miss Helen 
Trowbridge to-morrow.” 

“ I will! ” Lee looked as though he meant 
what he said. 

The Lodge verandah was filled with people 
—cousins, sisters, mothers, and fathers of the 
girls at Camp Ojibawa. Patricia ran eagerly 
up the steps, searching for her mother, but 
Mrs. Strickland was not to be seen. Patricia 
started indoors. 

“ I’ll wait here for you and Sally,” said 
Joyce, as she curled up in a chair. 

She sat there, gazing off towards the lake. 
The sun was dropping low in the west, and 
the slanting light made the water sparkle. The 
dancing waves and the murmur of the crowd 
soothed Joyce until she was nearly asleep. 
Suddenly two hands were clasped over her eyes 
from behind. 

“ Sally,” she guessed. No answer. “ Pat¬ 
ricia,” she tried. Still no answer. With a 
quick motion, she reached up and pulled the 



308 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


hands from her eyes. Then she jumped to her 
feet. 

“Ray! Oh, Ray! I am glad to see you. I 
was afraid you weren’t coming.” 

“ Think I’d miss a chance like this? Where’s 
Patricia? ” 

“ Right here.” Patricia came up, clinging to 
her father’s arm. “ All our worry for noth¬ 
ing, Joyce. They did come.” 

The Orcutts, the Stricklands, Ray, Joyce, 
and Lee Davis all ate at one big table that 
evening, and they were by far the merriest 
group in a roomful of happy people. 

Helen Trowbridge’s pageant was given that 
evening. It went through this time without 
any mishap, and was very attractive. 

“Is that the girl who came up to the car 
this afternoon? ” Lee asked Sally. 

“ The same,” she replied. 

“ And she planned and staged this pag¬ 
eant? ” 

“ She did.” 

“ Well, she can’t be such a dunce as I 
thought her. She is rather pretty.” 

“Wait until you meet her,” warned Sally. 


GUEST WEEK 


309 


Friday was given over to various races. 
The swimming races were held in the morning. 
Patricia and Sally won most of the honors, al¬ 
though once or twice, in short swims, Joyce 
came near to winning. 

In the afternoon, there were running and 
jumping races. In the short dash, Helen 
Trowbridge won, but in the longer races and 
the jumping contests, Tent Joy again took the 
honors. 

Then came the “ fun ” races, and all the girls 
joined in these. There was much hilarity 
over the “ three-legged ” race, the “ backward ” 
race, the “ wheelbarrow ” race, the race in 
which each girl filled the broad blade of a knife 
with peanuts and hurried to a goal and back 
again. 

Finally, Field Day was over. The girls 
went to their tents to rest for the evening, and 
their guests returned to Gulliver Lodge for 
dinner. 

Dr. Orcutt invited Mr. and Mrs. Strickland, 
Grandma Parsons, and Ray to have dinner 
with him. The talk, of course, was mostly of 
the camp. 


310 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Isn’t Joyce a dear? ” Grandma Parsons 
said. “ I am very anxious to see her little play 
to-night. I’m sure it will be good.” 

“ I think,” said Mr. Strickland, “ that we 
should do something special for the girls. 
What do you think, Dr. Orcutt? ” 

“ Seems so to me,” agreed Sally’s father, 
“ but what can we do? ” 

“We have two young men here,” said 
Granny Orcutt, “ who most certainly can think 
of some interesting way to entertain them.” 

Ray looked at Lee Davis, and Lee looked 
back. 

“ I’ll appoint them a committee of two,” 
said Mr. Strickland. “ Ray, you are to report 
to me by ten this evening.” 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Ray, “ although at 
present my mind is an utter blank.” 

“ I have an idea,” Lee Davis informed him. 
“ As soon as we finish dinner, we’ll make a 
few inquiries.” 

Joyce’s “ stunt ” was even better for Guest 
Week than it had been at first. The girls had 
practised more, and the costumes were more 
complete. Again the lovely lady became a 


GUEST WEEK 811 

Gypsy, and again her enraged husband fol¬ 
lowed her, only to be repulsed. 

“ For I shall be a Raggle-Taggle Gypsy- 
oh/' she informed him. 

Twice the little scene was enacted under the 
full moon. Joyce was very lovely in her Gypsy 
costume which suited her dark type. 

Lee, Sally, Ray, and Patricia came up to 
congratulate her after the final song. 

“ Really, Joyce, you should always be a 
Gypsy,” said Sally. 

“ If Joyce were Gypsy Queen, we’d all join 
her band and be Gypsies, too.” Lee Davis 
smiled down at her. 

“ Gypsies are all right in a play, and splen¬ 
did for a club,” said wise little Joyce, “ but I 
didn’t care much for the taste we had of the 
real thing.” 

“ We might make that a Gypsy affair to¬ 
morrow night,” Lee suggested mysteriously to 
Ray. 

“ Would the other girls be able to get cos¬ 
tumes? ” asked practical Ray. “ And how 
about ourselves? ” 

“ To-morrow night? ” exclaimed Sally. 


312 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ We’ll all be on our way home. I hate to 
think of it.” 

“ Oh, no, we won’t. We start Sunday,” said 
Lee Davis. 

“ Ray, what’s going to happen to-morrow 
night? ” asked Joyce and Patricia in chorus. 

“Wait and see,” answered Ray. 

And no further information was obtainable. 

The last day of camp dawned bright and 
fair. 

“ I could weep,” said Sally. “ I’ll just hate 
leaving you girls. Will you both be back next 
summer? ” 

“ I don’t suppose I will,” Joyce sighed a 
little. “No doubt I’ll be working.” 

“ Working? ” Sally looked surprised. 

“ Oh, yes. I’ll be through High School, 
then. You see,” she added quickly, “ I’m only 
here as Patricia’s guest.” 

“You dear kid!” Sally gave her a hug. 
“ Then I invite you right here and now to be 
my guest next year.” 

Joyce only shook her head. 

“ I’d love it, Sally, and you’re a dear to ask 
me, but I’m not at all sure I can accept.” 


GUEST WEEK 


313 


“ Oh, well,” Sally was optimistic, “ next 
summer is a long way off. Never know what 
can happen between now and then. Come 
along, both of you. I’m going over to have a 
final look at my bird collection.” 

Helen and Gwendolyn were already in the 
exhibit tent, finishing the arrangement of their 
collection. 

“ Looks good,” Sally greeted them. 

“Yes, it does,” Gwendolyn agreed lan¬ 
guidly. 

Helen Trowbridge ignored Sally completely 
and turned to Patricia. 

“ Have you seen my collection? ” she asked 
sweetly. “ Don’t you think it is splendid? I 
know we shall win.” 

“ I’m here, too, you know, Helen,” said 
Sally coolly. It was the first time Joyce had 
ever seen Sally lose control of her temper, even 
slightly. 

Helen looked at her haughtily. “ My name 
is Miss Trowbridge, Sally,” she said with al¬ 
most a sneer. 

“ Indeed! Well, mine is Miss Orcutt.” 

“Oh, I see,” said Helen. “Well, in New 


814 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

York we never speak to our servants as ‘ Miss ’ 
anything.” 

Sally’s eyes snapped now. 

“ And will you kindly tell me, Miss Trow¬ 
bridge, why you class me as a servant? ” 

“ Why, it’s plain to see that you are earning 
your own way through camp.” 

“ And if I were,” Sally was furious, “ that 
would be no cause for you to insult me. At 
least, I’d be more honest than Gwendolyn, 
here.” 

“ What do you mean? ” Gwendolyn whirled 
on her, languid airs forgotten. 

“ Oh, I heard your mother say to you that 
4 Pa couldn’t come. Some of the farm hands 
got sore and quit, so he couldn’t leave.’ So, 
apparently your vast estate is only an up-state 
farm.” 

“ Oh! ” Gwendolyn stamped her foot in im¬ 
potent rage. 

Helen Trowbridge looked from Gwendolyn 
to Sally. 

44 So you admit,” she said to Sally, 44 you ad¬ 
mit that you are earning your way through 
camp? ” 


GUEST WEEK 


815 


“ I admit nothing of the sort/’ Sally’s 
temper was blazing now; “if you want to 
know-” 

“ Sally,” Lee Davis stepped to the open flap 

of the tent, “ your father wants- Hello! 

In a tantrum? What about? ” 

“ She has reason to be in a tantrum,” said 
Patricia, angry also. 

“ What’s wrong? ” asked Lee, looking from 
one to another. 

“ Lee ”—Sally tried to speak calmly—“ am 
I a serving-maid? ” 

“ Sally! Absurd! Who said so? ” 

“ Never mind who said it. Am I? ” 

“ Why, Sally, what a question. Do you 
mean to tell me that you have been here all 
summer and not one of these girls knows who 
Sally Orcutt is? ” 

“ Why, I’m just Sally Orcutt.” Surprise 
wiped out all Sally’s anger. 

“ Well, I assure you,” said Lee Davis, “ that 
I would never be in camp a whole summer 
without letting the fellows know it, in some 
way, if my father were as wealthy as yours. 
Even your own fortune isn’t so small. And 




316 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


your beautiful old home and estates that 
>> 

are- 

“ Oh, hush! ” Sally suddenly regained her 
composure. 

“ You told me to tell them,” said Lee, be¬ 
ginning to be a bit angry himself. 

“ Yes. I was angry, terribly so, for a 
minute. But why bother? ” 

“ But you said-” he insisted. 

“ Never mind what I said. I take it back. 
And if you don’t hush, I’ll make you a mem¬ 
ber of the Dumb Belle Club.” 

“ But, Sally, you know that you yourself 
have a fortune that-” 

“Lee, will you be still? ” Sally stamped her 
foot at him. “ There are times when I still 
long to pull your hair, and unless you quit, 
I’m going to obey that impulse right here and 
now.” 

“ Very well, Sally,” he said coldly, “ but if 
Miss Strickland thinks-” 

“ Oh,” said Sally, “ do you hear that, Pat? ” 

“ I certainly do, Sarah,” said Patricia. 

“ Good work,” said Lee, involuntarily. “ I’ll 
remember that retort, Sarah! " 






GUEST WEEK 


317 


Sally made a face at him. “ I apologize, 
Miss Strickland,” he said. 

“You better had,” said Sally. “ Patricia’s a 
real girl. And in the third place, how did you 
happen to be here in the first place? ” 

“ Your father and Granny Orcutt are look¬ 
ing for you.” 

“ Come on, Joyce and Patricia.” Sally 
walked out of the tent, leaving two silent and 
sheepish girls behind her. 

Although the bird collection contest was 
close, Sally won the prize, for it was discovered 
that Gwendolyn had added a number of things 
to her collection unfairly. 

And, early in the afternoon, with much cere¬ 
mony, Joyce was crowned Camp Featherhead 
and given the Indian headdress. 

“ It really belongs to you, Sally,” she pro¬ 
tested. 

“Indeed it does not! You can cook and 
ride and swim and play tennis and be a fire¬ 
man, and—and—besides I had it last year!” 

And so, with many farewells and promises 
to write, camp closed for that season. 

Patricia, Sally, and Joyce were instructed 



318 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 


to put on their best “ bib and tucker ” and 
appear at Gulliver Lodge promptly at six 
o’clock. 

“ May we ask Miss McGinnery and Robert 
Gary, too? ” asked Sally. 

/‘That explorer chap?” said Lee. “Yes, 
bring him along. I like him fine.” 

When they arrived, they found waiting there 
not only Mr. and Mrs. Strickland and Grand¬ 
ma Parsons, Dr. and Granny Orcutt, Ray 
and Lee Davis, but also Alice Redmond and 
her brother, Pauline Selby and her two cousins, 
and two more girls from camp. 

Lee Davis stepped forward and offered 
Joyce his arm, Ray followed with Patricia, 
then Sally and Dr. Orcutt, and the others. 
They entered the dining-room and advanced to 
a table set with Gypsy favors. 

“A farewell dinner for the Gypsy lady and 
her friends,” Lee smiled at Joyce. 

“ You-all certainly have been busy,” ob¬ 
served Sally. “ Oh, there I did it again. I 
said ‘ You-all.’ I always do when I get ex¬ 
cited.” 

“ Oh,” said Patricia, remembering, “ you 


GUEST WEEK 


319 


said once before that you spent some time in 
France, Sally. Tell us about it.” 

Sally shrugged her shoulders. 

“ I went to a convent over there for two 
winters and I loved it, too. That’s where I 
learned to be a lady.” 

“ Sally! ” protested Lee. 

“ I assure you it isn’t natural. I’m by na¬ 
ture meant for a tomboy. Who fixed all these 
favors? ” 

“ Grandma Parsons,” guessed Joyce. 

“ And Granny Orcutt,” added Lee. 

Tiny tents stood at each place. 

As soon as dinner was over, the hotel or¬ 
chestra began to play, and soon every one was 
dancing happily. Dr. Orcutt even insisted on 
an old-fashioned waltz so that he could dance 
with his mother; and Granny Orcutt danced, 
as young in spirit at least as any in that room. 

At the stroke of twelve, the orchestra began 
to play a selection of all the old farewell pieces 
—“ Home Sweet Home,” “ Auf Wiedersehn.” 

“ And now,” said Joyce with a sigh, to Lee 
Davis, “ Camp Ojibawa is closed. It has 
been a wonderful summer.” 


320 PATRICIA AND THE OTHER GIRLS 

“ Hasn’t it? ” Patricia and Ray stopped 
dancing to join Joyce and Lee. 

Sally came, too. “ I move that the three 
honor guests, instead of giving three rousing 
cheers or anything like that, sing their grati¬ 
tude. Can it be done? ” 

“ Perhaps,” said Patricia. “ What shall we 
sing? ” 

“ Islands still are floating past,” said Sally. 

“ I think I smell smoke,” said Joyce. 

“ No,” said Patricia, “ I know.” 

Clear and flute-like her voice rose, while the 
other two girls hummed an accompaniment 
and the orchestra was silent: 

“ Until we meet again.” 


THE END 


















































































































































































































































































